


Pierce the Heavens with your XXX!

by operationhades



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Anime, Avengers Merchandise, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, Hulk Does What He Wants, Hulk Smash, Loki Does What He Wants, M/M, Snarky Jarvis, Swearing, Thor Is Not Stupid, Thor Is a Good Bro, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Is a Good Bro
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-29
Updated: 2013-08-13
Packaged: 2017-12-16 14:31:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 25,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/863086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/operationhades/pseuds/operationhades
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It starts off with Thor. ("Come! Join me and JARVIS in the wake of this strange new viewing called anime!")</p><p>Featuring a JARVIS that may very well be exhibiting a Skynet behaviour, the Hulk doing Hulktastic things (like believing he can fly), Thor secretly being a douchebag, and Steve trying to court Tony but failing horribly because Tony's completely oblivious. Until he's not.</p><p>(Now with extra smutty epilogue!)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Rap Is A Man's Soul!

**Author's Note:**

> This is my 'I DO WHAT I WANT' fic, for Reasons, but mostly because I wanted to try writing in the present tense for the first time in my life. It's surprisingly difficult, what with some things having happened in the past, and others happening in the future, and stuff like that, but I'm... happy with this. Really really happy.
> 
> Like disgustingly happy.
> 
> This is also my first Avengers' fic, so allow me to bow in greeting and demand your hospitality. There's no spoilers for IM3, or any of the others that are soon to come out, BUT THERE ARE SPOILERS FOR ANIME SO BEWARE, BROS. Anyway enjoy, this is in three parts with an extra smutty epilogue (hence the rating).

It starts off with Thor. 

Granted, when you actually think about it, _everything_ starts with Thor, the sneaky little bastard. The Avengers got cobbled together after Thor got hit by a car. (Twice, if Darcy's gleeful retelling of the story is to be actually believed.) Loki's daddy issues (and bro issues too, if Tony's being honest) apparently started with Thor too. ("Aye, it unfolded on the announcement of my Crowning...") Hell, the Hulk ranting and grumbling about ShoutyLocks while he casually stroked Dummy's lone arm in Tony's workshop started because of Thor. (Tony will never not get over Bruce's face on watching the video footage after the first time that had happened.) So it's no surprise when Tony walks into the common living room to find Thor enthralled with some cartoon on the large screen.

It's no surprise either when Thor notices him and enthusiastically booms, "Friend Tony! It is good to see you!"

Tony's usually well versed in the art of repression; he has a freaking cruise liner built on the river of denial, thank you very much - but he makes no move to hide the real grin on his face at the sheer _genuine_ warmth of Thor's greeting. He's always happy to see Tony, he _likes_ Tony, which is a novelty Tony's still not used too.

And then Thor says, "Come! Join me and JARVIS in the wake of this strange new viewing called anime!"

Tony looks at the screen where a scruffy looking guy with a sword does a weird jump at a glasses wearing samurai. "Uh, no."

Frowning, Thor's exuberance dampens a little, his eyebrows furrow together, and with that ominous I-Am-The-God-Of-Thunder-Hear-Me-Roar puts a broad hand on the seat beside him and says, "Sit."

Flabbergasted at the sheer _audacity_ of being commanded like a dog, Tony stares at Thor, and is somewhat surprised by the reasonable way he says, "Yeaaahhh, no."

Ladies and gentlemen, this goes to show just how much Tony actually likes Thor, because if anybody else had even _dared_ to tell Tony to _sit_ , Tony would've ripped them apart. With a screwdriver.

The thing is though, Thor is thousands of years old, he's a warrior, a prince, a god, an immortal, and (for a short time) a mortal. He responds to Tony's answer by striking out, quick as the lightning and thunder heralded by his name, and grabs Tony by the arm in a surprisingly gentle - but firm - grip, yanking him towards the sofa. Tony tries to hold back - even digs his heels in the thousand dollar shag carpeting - but ultimately gets dragged like a rag doll, ending up half sprawled over Thor's lap and half hanging on the floor. Thor, in display of sheer fucking doucheness Tony theorises comes from an eternity of being Loki's older brother, actually pats Tony condescendingly on the head, and then adds insult to injury by saying, "Good Tony."

Tony can't help but be somewhat _awed_ by the sheer douchiness.

He scrambles off Thor's lap, throwing himself to the opposite end of the sofa, glowering at Thor all the while. He's observant, it's hard not to be when you're the modern day version of a technologically-inclined Sherlock fucking Holmes, so this isn't the first time he's noticed that under the bright puppy exterior of their resident thunder god is a guy who's little brother is the god of fucking _chaos_. "I don't want to watch some cartoon." Tony finally settles on, grumbling as his hurt pride tries to figure out a way to redeem itself.

JARVIS not so helpfully pipes up with a, "On the contrary sir, this is anime, which is fundamentally considered different from cartoons. You, of all people, should use the correct terminology. Or need I remind you of the fiasco of introducing me to the team?"

(Let it hereby be noted that JARVIS is the catalyst, the instigator, the planner and the one who Tony puts all the blame on. Oh, and, _this_ is where it really starts, not with Thor, but JARVIS.)

Rolling his eyes hard, Tony huffs and folds his arms defensively across his chest. So what if he was a bit passionate about explaining the difference between a simple fucking robot and an _A.I._ \- that's totally different. Before he can say anything though, JARVIS effectively cuts him off by restarting the show, the opening sequence of the cartoon- oh, wait, no, _anime_ , starting up in what surprisingly sounds like a rap song.

Tony, like the petulant kid he really is, goes, "I don't like rap."

Thor gives him the side eye, and says, "Hush."

Right, yeah, _hell to the fucking no_. "Look, Fabio," Tony starts with a middle finger. "You--"

Thor interrupts him with a cocked eyebrow and a prompt, "Rule 24."

Rule 24: No talking when the television is on, or Thor will put Mjolnir on you. If Thor is not present, Coulson will taser you. If Coulson is not present, Natasha will silence you. If Natasha is not present, Bruce will calmly tell you to shut up, and if you don't, the _Hulk_ will. Happily. If Bruce is not present, Steve will you give the Disappointed Look of Doom until you shut up. If Steve is not present, JARVIS will ultimately get you to shut up. And you will rue the day you got on the A.I.'s bad side.

When you read it like that, it's pretty obvious to see just who exactly the rule was made for. (Read: him and Clint.)

Tony's mouth shuts with an audible click.

Happy, Thor turns back to the large screen, where the opening sequence is indeed to the soundtrack of an honest to god rap song, featuring the scruffy looking man in red and the glasses wearing samurai dude along with some woman (girl? Tony can never tell with these things). Grumbling under his breath, Tony settles down into the soft give of the cushions, arms still crossed, but dutifully doesn't speak up again.

Honestly, he has no problems with Thor watching a cartoon- oops, sorry, _anime_ \- or preferring it to real-life people shows. He doesn't like how the others see it as Thor being slightly... dense, because of it. That's not true, Thor just prefers the fact that with cartoons (and apparently anime now), it's more the storyline that's the focus, rather than the actors and how they look. Tony gets that, he admires it too, as much as he can actually admire anything, but he's just never actually watched any of these things before. His childhood had very little space for television that wasn't the stock prices anyway.

But Thor wants him to watch this thing with him, so Tony settles down and focuses on the screen just in time for the opening sequence to finish.

A minute in, he demands, "What the hell is this?"

Thor shushes him, throwing in a quelling look for good measure, but Tony is having none of it. "You do realise they're not speaking in English, right? Are you fucking with me? Why are you watching Japanese cartoons? _In Japanese?_ "

Thor goes from looking grumpy at Tony's incessant chattering to bewildered, glancing between the large screen and Tony. On screen, the scruffy guy and the samurai are trading barbs, getting more and more heated, looking two seconds shy of actually getting physical and oops, there they go, lunging at each other with fancy looking (and highly impossible, thank you very much) moves. It only takes a beat for Thor's face to clear with something that looks like realisation, and then he looks contrite, actually apologetic, as he says, "Ah, forgive me friend Tony. I had not noticed. The All-Speak makes all languages seem one and the same to me. It saddens me that I will not be able to share this new experience with you, as the language is not one you speak."

Tony likes Thor, but he hates the way the demigod (or is it god? Tony can't decide which, which calls for research! And probably wikipedia.) has everyone, including himself, wrapped around his fucking little finger. Case in point, Tony's already rushing to ease Thor of his sadness, feeling guilty for even _bringing_ it there in the first place, like it's his freaking fault that the show is in a language most people in America can't actually speak.

Most people that aren't Tony, anyway.

"No, no, big guy it's okay! I can speak Japanese, so it's fine. I just found it weird that you were watching it and totally forgot about the whole All-Speak thing, which you have _got_ to tell me more about, does it only work on Earth languages or does it spread to other worlds? Have you ever come across a language you _couldn't_ understand? Does _everybody_ speak All-Speak on Asgard or is it just royalty?" Gasping for breath, Tony savours the oxygen in his lungs and bites his tongue to hold back the words threatening to burst out when Thor stares at him with wide eyes.

The god's eyes goes hazy for a moment, distracted, before they focus on Tony with a laser intent focus Clint usually gets around his arrows (and fucking hot pockets, the asshole). "The All-Speak indeed covers all the nine realms, and others if father is to be believed." Thor answers, his voice soothing and rhythmic whenever he isn't booming left, right and centre. "I have not yet come across a language I could not understand nor speak, nor have I come across any that do not understand me, but the possibility of it happening cannot be ignored. The All-Speak is unfortunately limited to that of royalty, as you so put it. Only that of Odin's line have the ability, and a small handful of his peers who are considered royalty themselves. On the other hand, I suspect other royalties, as those of the other pantheons, also have the ability, but I can not be certain." Then he grins, a wide happy thing, and happily booms, "But I am overjoyed that you are capable of understanding, and that you may join me in this viewing of samurai..." He pauses, looking back at the screen where the show is currently paused.

Helpfully, JARVIS supplies, "Samurai Champloo."

"Ah, yes!" Thor grins. "The samurai of the champ loo!"

Not quite sure what sort of expression his face wants to pull, Tony settles for going, "Champloo is, what, remix?"

JARVIS agrees. "Indeed. Perhaps you would prefer English subtitles, sir? In the chance some terms escape you."

Scowling at one of the nearby cameras, Tony wordlessly allows it by flipping the camera - and by extension, JARVIS - off. The anime starts up again, English words crystal clear and legible on the bottom of the screen, helpful when the Japanese inevitably whizzes by a bit too quickly for Tony's ears. 

Granted, the only Japanese he actually knows happen to be strictly for business. Aaaand, the occasional hookup. And maybe ordering take-out. And dealing with the Japanese press. And _stuff_ , okay, Jesus, get off his back. 

So that's how his evening goes, Tony sitting on the sofa with Thor, the both of them marathoning fourteen episodes of _Samurai Champloo_ , which amounts to seven hours of watching pretty damn sweet animation, fight scenes, and a scene with a whore house Tony _loves_. 

(Okay, no, actually, _this_ is where it all starts.)

* * *

 

Somehow, it becomes a sort of... ritual, if you will, between them. Thor would find Tony - usually in his workshop - and (forcibly, at times) drag him out for a marathon session. After the first time, Tony became in charge of the popcorn, Thor got the drinks, and JARVIS was in charge of the show.

It was strange, sitting there with Thor watching animations, but kinda nice too. Tony didn't know _why_ exactly he was still here doing this, letting Thor get his way all the time. It wasn't like him and Thor were lacking in the team bonding or whatever; surprisingly enough Tony had more in common with Thor than a lot of the Avengers. (Richer than god - or, in Thor's case, other gods - royalty, 'cuz let's face it, Tony was the closest thing Midgard would ever get to having a sole king, and the heir. In that regard, Tony had already been Crowned, had been reigning king since the death of Howard Stark, and sooner or later Thor would be king too.) They were comfortable with each other, Thor came to him mostly with his questions, especially after Clint fucked him over by showing him that pop-tart advert (don't ask, seriously, just don't), so this whole new anime-marathon night thing was a bit excessive.

But also sort of, bizarrely, great.

Tony - king of Midgard, Stark Industries, Repression and Denial - shrugged as best as he could as he juggled his soda and popcorn, and frankly told himself to just go with it. Fuck it, it was nice, so enjoy it while it lasts.

So on they went. They finished _Samurai Champloo_ pretty quickly, Thor struggling to decide which of the three characters he liked the most. Tony thought Jin was a badass, no lie, but Mugen - especially in that one episode with the graffiti tagging and that pretty sweet song as soundtrack - sometimes stole the spotlight. They both agreed the episode with the baseball and the Americans was _hilarious_ , and Tony revelled in being unpatriotic, because he didn't even feel a twinge of irritation at just how ugly the Americans were portrayed. No doubt Steve would have had  _words_ about it.

JARVIS had them swiftly move on to _Darker than BLACK_ , which was just as dark as the name suggested and not even remotely light hearted. It tried at times, especially with how the main character - a Chinese mercenary (by all intents and purposes) with the power of electricity - went undercover as a clumsy, sweetly naïve, foreign student. Tony spent the first half of the anime admiring the sheer complexity of the plot, the second half of it with a hand halfway to his mouth but not quite there and his butt on the edge of the seat. Thor spent the time equally riveted by the fight scenes, the glimpse and understanding he was gaining of the numerous governments around the Earth and their secret services, with a healthy dose of appreciation for the fighting (and the electricity; lots and lots of appreciation there).

Needless to say, the two sequel's of the show weren't nearly as satisfying.

JARVIS, the little bitch, played them _Fullmetal Alchemist_.

One word: brothers. 

The next time they fought Loki, Thor was inconsolable.

It was just the two of them, three if you counted JARVIS, who both Tony and Thor did. (Thor was great like that, he didn't care that JARVIS wasn't physically there, it didn't even mean anything to him - higher brain functions equalled life to him, and JARVIS was definitely capable of higher brain functions.) At first they just watched together, cheered at the awesome scenes, mentioned their favourites characters, but halfway through the second half of _Darker than BLACK_ , Tony ended up explaining a few of the more obscure parts of the show that the alien god wouldn't get due to basically being an alien, and then from there, they just dissolved into talking, arguing over plot points, philosophy, fight scenes and, god forbid, _character development_. It wasn't just them - JARVIS turned out to be equally invested (if not more) in this than even Thor, and he got _snippy_ if either of them said something less than favourable about his favourite characters.

Thor adored most of the main characters; especially the underdogs. Tony had a soft spot for the characters shrouded in the grey area, the sassy villains, the reformed bad guys and anti-heroes. JARVIS liked the unconventional characters - the blind girl with the piano skills, the talking cat, the one named Greed and Lust who were just, ultimately, protecting their family in a morally-opposed way - and Tony _knows_ JARVIS cried when one of the characters got shot, Tony _knows_ that JARVIS really didn't take it too well when the talking cat went to his death.

Fuck anyone who said his JARVIS wasn't a person, anyway.

Tony stumbles into the kitchen, heading straight for the coffee machine, and groans long and drawn out as he pours himself a steaming cup of the liquid. Natasha and Clint were off on a mission, Bruce had fucked off somewhere to Nepal (or was it Mongolia?), and the last Tony knew of Steve, the guy had been in the gym whaling on a punching bag. Thor had gone to visit his girlfriend in New Mexico two weeks ago, meaning two whole weeks of undisturbed work for Tony. Strangely enough, after Thor had started lugging him around and out of the workshop, everybody else (read: Steve) had stopped nagging at him to cut back on his work hours. With the habit broken, nobody had quite realised that Thor being gone meant Tony was _free_ , and he'd taken filthy advantage of it.

Throwing back the coffee, Tony hisses as the hot liquid burns down his oesophagus, all the while pouring himself another cup. He felt too energized, practically bouncing with it, nothing on his mind except the incessant urge to hunt Natasha down and give her the new and improved Widow's Bite he'd just finished. He knew from experience the urge (or the extra energy) wouldn't leave him until he'd finally dropped it in her hands, because the project wouldn't be finished until he'd handed it in, seen it work with his own two eyes and labelled it a goddamn success.

It's three in the afternoon though, and Tony's just pulled an all nighter for the last two days. That means that he now literally has nothing important pending to focus on. His armour's all decked out and gleaming, ready to assemble, he'd updated Clint's bow and given him extra new arrows that melted things before he'd left, and he has nothing to do for Pepper and Stark Industries until next week.

A thud from the balcony has him looking up, head craning towards the living room. A few minutes later, Thor comes striding in, long legs eating up the distance, red cape billowing attractively behind him, clad in his Asgardian armour and the ever present Mjolnir at his side. He spots Tony immediately, grinning widely on seeing him, blue eyes sparkling, and Tony graces him with a welcoming grin of his own. "Hey Thor, how was New Mexico?"

"Most wonderful!" Thor booms happily, shaking out his arms like he's holding himself back from hugging Tony in his sheer joy. They'd learned quickly in the start that Thor's lightning and Tony's arc reactor did not go well together. At all. "My beautiful Lady Jane sends her regards, as does Lady Darcy. She in particular wishes to compliment you on your ability to goad my brother."

Tony's grin turns wicked as he digs in his pants for his phone, whipping it out as he answers fondly. "I'm going to guess she means that last assembly right? The one where Loki got so pissed at me he ignored the city completely and instead focused on yours truly?"

Looking unwillingly amused, Thor nods as Tony begins composing a new text message. "Aye," he says, voice tinged with reproach. "The one where you use the ability of All-Speak to insult him in numerous languages without the good Captain being any the wiser. If the son of Coul is to be believed, you speak an alarming number of languages. Hawkeye seemed most impressed."

Tony snorts, remembering how Clint would get excited whenever he recognised what Tony was saying. Like a kid at Christmas.

Not that Tony would know. What a kid at Christmas is like, that is. He spent most Christmas' at boarding schools and never got presents.

His phone beeps, alerting him to a text. Tony reads it and grins. "Darcy _really_ liked it, huh? She went to all the trouble of cobbling together a translation. Apparently it's got over forty thousand reblogs on tumblr."

Thor grins widely and says, "Yes! This tumblr is most entertaining. I follow the avengers tap!"

"Avengers tag," Tony corrects distractedly, sipping his coffee luxuriously. Thor just grins wider and nods, thanks him, and makes a beeline for the pop-tarts. Tony watches him pop a few too many in the microwave, knows for a fact that the blueberry ones are for him, and thinks about how weird it is that Thor just thanks and accepts Tony correcting him on linguistics, even goes as far as to try out a new phrase on him first to see if he got it right.

It's not weird because it's Thor - Thor's great, man, Loki's a dick - but because most people would see it as an asshole move from Tony. Steve definitely does. Whenever Tony corrects him on something (by accident, okay!), Steve gets this pinched look and either goes quiet or bulldozes on, ignoring it. Thor welcomes it with open arms and considers Tony his BFF or something because of it.

Tony's BFF's with a god (we'll stick with god, sounds far more impressive than demigod). If that isn't a sign that Tony made great life choices, then he doesn't know what is.

"I have missed our marathons!" Thor says happily as Tony's phone beeps again. "Would you care to begin one with me?"

Well, he's got nothing better to do with his fucking time, so Tony nods as he opens the text.

> **Darcy:** btw its adorable as shit tht ur watchin anime wit thor. major kudos, bro

"Yeah, big guy," Tony answers distractedly, phone beeping again with another text. "Maybe you wanna get changed? I'll get everything ready."

Thor smiles, pops a pop-tart in his mouth, and strides out of the kitchen towards the elevators as Tony reads the next text.

> **Darcy:** oh watch ouran high school host club n avatar the last airbender follwd by the legend of korra.

Yeah, Tony thinks with a smirk, he's not surprised Darcy's into anime. "You got that, J?"

Ever the creepy fuck, JARVIS responds, "Of course, sir. I track all of your incoming and outgoing communication so you'll be unable to call for help."

"Repeat that again when Legolas comes back. You know how much I love it when you creep him out."

"I do, sir. It _is_ a trait we share."

Thor comes back pretty quickly, dressed in a large black hoodie with Black Widow's red spider large on the centre. Thor has a hoodie for all of them; a blue one with Cap's striped shield on the centre, a black one with purple accents and a hawk, a green one done in such a way as to look like the Hulk's chest, and a red and gold one with the triangular glow of the arc reactor in the middle. It's adorable, and Tony knows from an experience he refuses to talk about that they're all comfortable as hell. Especially when it's Thor's. And your sick. And injured. And think you're alone.

You can never be truly alone with JARVIS around to take incriminating pictures of you lounging in bed with Thor's hoodie and using it to fucking blackmail you for other people's sake.

A few minutes later, Tony's sitting in his spot, the coffee table is laden with all the good stuff, and so Thor drops onto his end - bouncing both of them, jeez - and Tony whirls his index finger at JARVIS.

That's how Steve finds them three hours later.

The thing is, though, the thing is; Tony and Thor have been doing this for a solid month now. They try and get together at least once a week, twice if they're being sneaky, and watch whatever's on queue. They have it down to an art form by now; Thor's in charge of the timing, Tony's in charge of the goods - food, people, get your mind out of the gutter - and JARVIS' in charge of the shows. 

But not once has anybody else been around to witness it.

Tony has, dimly, noticed it, pretty early on if he said so himself. But a little tiny inkling in him had him putting the blame on JARVIS rather than Thor. Thor seemed to genuinely either not have noticed, or simply not care, because he didn't even bat an eye but brighten up instead when Steve walked in.

The chillingly frosty silence from JARVIS pretty much confirms it for Tony.

Jesus, he thinks wildly, eyebrows rising incredulously to his hairline as he stares at the closest camera, JARVIS was _jealous_. There were only a few people that really treated the AI like a person, Tony could count them on one hand, even, and Thor was one of them.

Bruce was too much of an intellect to forget the fact that JARVIS was an AI, and chalked up anything even remotely human to some really fantastic processing capabilities. Clint saw JARVIS as Skynet, and would scramble to literally do whatever he could to keep the AI in his good graces because he _feared_ the consequences. Natasha _hated_ JARVIS, because JARVIS was some _thing_ she couldn't protect herself from, some _thing_ that saw her every move, calculated her every function, knew more about her weaknesses from simply observing her than even she did. Suffice to say, Natasha and JARVIS were... Well. Steve was close, but no cigar, but it had more to do with JARVIS being a disembodied voice to him than anything else. Because of it, he overcompensated by being extra polite and extra nice to JARVIS, and Tony knew that was the last thing his AI wanted. 

But Thor, on being introduced to JARVIS, greeted him with the same booming voice he greeted Tony with. And Tony was pretty sure the two had conversations about god knew what on a daily basis - hell, they were the one that came up with this whole anime marathon thing, so there.

But Tony's digressing. Basically, Thor's awesome with JARVIS, and because of it, JARVIS was coveting the Asgardian's attention, thus JARVIS was not pleased with said attention moving to Steve.

Rhodey would be pissing himself laughing if he heard this.

"Friend Steve! Come, have a seat and join us!" Thor grins, waving his hand in greeting. "We are in the midst of a exuberant show of hosts, and the drastic difference between the poor and the rich. It is quite compelling, and friend Tony and I could use your perspective on the former."

Sneakily, as Steve goes confused and turns his blue eyes to the screen, Tony whips out his phone and hurriedly types a message.

> **Tony:** J are you fucking kidding me u r not a child n did thor just call steve poor???
> 
> **JARVIS:** I do not understand what you are talking about, sir, and yes, Thor did indeed categorise Captain Rogers as poor.

Because nobody ever expects Thor to actually be anything but a giant puppy, Steve doesn't make the connection and look offended; instead he looks confused but ultimately shrugs agreeably. "Um, sure? As long as neither of you mind." Those blue eyes look to Tony, directing the words at him.

Tony slaps on a smile, the same one he uses for the public whenever he happens to be hiding something that they'd just love to hear, and says, "Nope. Fine with me."

"JARVIS!" Thor grins in celebration. "Please restart at episode one so our dear captain can fully immerse himself in the story."

Steve immediately refuses, "No, it's okay! I don't want to bother you, I can just watch from here."

"Eh, it's only been four episodes," Tony disagrees flippantly, eyeing the nearest camera with a warning. "It'll be fine, right, JARVIS?"

A beat, then another, and after a peevish moment, the screen flickers back to the first episode.

Tony subtly pulls up Darcy's info and sends:

> **Tony:** halp my ai is turnin evil n holdin me prisoner
> 
> **Darcy:** I'm no knight in shining armour. The big j is one dragon I can't slay soz
> 
> **Darcy:** hold up u nvr capslock who the fuck is this 

Horrified, Tony looks up, sees Thor happily offering some popcorn to a bewildered Steve, then back down at his phone. 

> **Tony:** wtf did you get? Wat did I send u?
> 
> **Darcy:** HELP, MY AI TOOK STEVE PRISONER. 

Tony stares at JARVIS' camera, then glances down at his phone and back up again at the camera. Eyebrows up, Tony jabs at the keypads to say: 

> **Tony:** holy shit was clint right r u goin skynet on us??? 

JARVIS pointedly does not reply.

* * *

 

It quickly becomes obvious that Japanese audio and English subtitles don't mesh well with Steve, so they switch to something called _dub_ , short form for _dubbed_ , basically replacing the Japanese voice actors with English. Thor doesn't notice the switch, which confirms what he said about barely recognising the difference in languages. Tony's surprised to find that he hates it, prefers the Japanese a hundred more times to the English, but bravely says nothing and let's it go. 

Thankfully, after frowning through the male lead's eccentric speech in English, Steve makes them go back to Japanese. 

Apparently this form of watching anime is called _sub_ , short form for _subtitles_ , and Tony has never actually spoken to the woman known as Darcy Lewis as much as he has this last week. The amount of knowledge pouring off the woman is frightening, the amount of knowledge there is _to_ pour about anime, of all things, is ridiculous. Who knew such a platform had such a large audience, and an even larger market? Tony learns all about the anime (and ultimately the manga) business as they watch episode after episode of _Ouran High School Host Club_. 

Sometimes they do eight hours straight, and with each episode being thirty minutes (including bathroom breaks and spur of the moment debates), that's pretty much sixteen episodes. Sometimes they only get to squeeze in three hours - six episodes - before Tony has to rush to a board meeting, or they have to all assemble. Sometimes Steve, who becomes a permanent fixture after the female character of _Ouran High School Host Club_ , Haruhi, gets forced into a male uniform and roped into pretending to be a guy, is off at SHIELD, and so they have to postpone their marathons for whenever he comes back. 

JARVIS, meanwhile, is making no attempts at getting over himself. 

Ultimately, it gets to a head when Thor comments about it. 

"Friend Tony, JARVIS, if I may have words with you both." 

Looking up from the gauntlet he's working on, Tony takes off his goggles and beckons Thor in. "Hit me, big guy." 

Thor grins a little, and Tony just knows the god's patting himself on the back for knowing that Tony in no way means that literally. "It concerns you, JARVIS, more than it does Tony. I will understand if you wish me to keep away, my friend, but I could not help but notice your animosity towards the captain." 

Surprised, but not one to miss an opportunity, Tony innocently says, "Yeah, I noticed that too. What's up with that, JARVIS?" 

The gauntlet on his worktable suddenly flexes, fingers curling in on itself threateningly. Meanwhile, JARVIS coolly says, "I do not understand what you are speaking off." 

Thor eyes the gauntlet, not having missed it or the subtle message JARVIS was sending at Tony, but pushes on with a warm, "I do not want to pressure you, friend, I wish only to help." 

"There is nothing to help, Prince Odinson." 

Ooh, Tony thinks as Thor blinks in surprise, formal title, JARVIS is being _bitchy_ tonight. Rolling his eyes, Tony bluntly says, "You're a jealous little shit, you know that?" Then turns to Thor with an answer. "He's jealous because you invited Steve to our marathons. He wants it to only be _us_ , the people that actually treat him like a real boy." 

JARVIS doesn't respond, not to deny or admit, but in the other side of the workshop, Dummy makes a startled noise. 

Which means, shit, JARVIS is _really_ pissed. Tony better sleep with an eye open. Or better yet, just not sleep. 

Thor looks contrite, angry at himself. "I apologise greatly, friend JARVIS," he says, voice bitter with self loathing. "I had not a clue this was the case; it is a fault of mine, that I lack observation, one that keeps bringing me nothing but loss. If I had known, I would have consulted you first, respected your decision, and maybe even have been able to help my own Loki. But alas, I fail once more to be of aide to those I consider brothers."

Turns out, JARVIS shares one more trait with Tony; the inability to let Thor stew in his self-imposed guilt. "It is in no form whatsoever your responsibility, Thor. You had no context to notice, nor should you have, for you had no idea that I should be treated in anyway different. To you I am JARVIS, and nothing more, but to the others I am JARVIS, the AI, and it affects how they view and converse with me, if they converse at all." Natasha. "I greatly enjoy our anime marathons, and further more, enjoy conversing with you, Thor. This is a problem of mine and only mine, and I shall endeavour to resolve it."

Thor looks up at the ceiling, though at no specific point, just like how one looks to the sunset yet speaks to their companion. "If you require any aide, then please do not hesitate to tell me. Friend Tony and I shall do everything in our power to support you." Tony cocks an eyebrow at being included, but doesn't really argue, because hey, everybody knows he's Team JARVIS all day every day. "If you wish for me to speak with the team--" 

"--That will not be necessary," JARVIS smoothly interrupts. "I am accustomed to it, as I should be. It is only the addition of you to a very small number of people to treat me like any other that has... unbalanced me. I apologise for any inconveniences I have caused. Captain Rogers has done me no harm, his only flaw is his upbringing in the forties. I will resolve this matter as swiftly as possible. Consider it done." 

Tony smiles, soft and real. With a nod and a smile of his own, Thor stands up and pats Tony's shoulder companionably, squeezing it once before going, shouting an exuberant farewell to Dummy who waves a wrench threateningly at the thunder god (they're first meeting really did not go well, and Tony theorises Dummy's grudge holding streak infected JARVIS somewhere along the way.) 

Three nights later, they're all in the living room, minus the assassins and Bruce (who's somewhere in Spain now - he sent a postcard of the Hulk wearing a sombrero the other day; it's pinned to the fridge now), and JARVIS has pulled through on his promise. 

As Haruhi and the male lead dance at a fabulously expensive prom, Steve and JARVIS argue passionately about the morals of debt and loans. Tony sighs happily, sinking into the plush cushions of his sofa, and Thor quips with comments and helpful little insights to spur Steve and JARVIS on. 

It's not too shabby, Tony thinks fondly, what they have going on here. Not too shabby at all. 

(Scratch everything, _this_ is where it really starts.)

* * *

 

"It's pretty swell," Steve's says, startling Tony badly. "What you and Thor have going on." 

When Tony blinks and focuses, Steve smiles at him apologetically for startling him, but there's not much guilt there. There never is, after the x amount of times it kept happening, because Tony always gets too absorbed in whatever he's doing and the tower just so happens to be full of people who ninja walk on _air_. Tony just needs to get used to the mini heart attacks, or find something to blackmail JARVIS into actually warning him when anybody is heading his way. 

"Uh," he says intelligently. "What?" 

"The anime marathons," Steve clarifies, patient as Tony struggles to switch tracks from mechanics and numbers to socialising and the English language. "It's neat." 

"Uh," Tony repeats. "Yeah, sure. Can I help you?" 

Steve's open expression shutters closed, like the blinds being snapped down, like lights being turned off, and Tony watches - bewildered - as the super soldier clenches his jaw tight and shakes his head. "No," Steve says, "I guess not." 

It takes Tony a beat to realise his question was _rude_ , and even more to struggle with the urge to just bulldoze on in his rudeness, because backtracking is a sign of weakness, and Stark men are made of goddamn steel. 

"Oh, good," he says instead, voice deceptively light and casual, pushing aside the echo of his father's words. "Then we can go get taco's."

Steve responds with furrowed eyebrows, looking confused, but Tony doesn't give him any time to react as he stands up, putting down the tablet he was focused on, and swaggers out of his workshop. He can't for the life of him remember when Steve came in, or how the hell he got codes, but now that his focus has been broken he's hungry and wants fresh air. 

Just like Tony planned, Steve follows after him, still confused. 

"Taco's," Tony repeats helpfully, walking into the elevator with Steve behind him. "And maybe milkshakes. And some pie, I know a place." 

Steve blinks as the elevator whizzes them down to the Stark Industries' lobby, but dutifully follows when the doors slide open. "Um, sure. Can we, um, get apple?" 

"Apple pie?" Tony says incredulously, glancing back at Steve before turning his attention to the media piranhas trying to stop him in his bid for freedom. "Why am I not surprised? No, you know what? Scratch that, apple's great. Apple pie it is." 

A small smile spreads over Steve's face, growing as they break out onto the New York streets. Tony's a bit shocked that they haven't dissolved into petty fighting yet, because him and Captain America? Not exactly on the best of terms. But Steve's relaxing, walking beside Tony, not unhappy or tense, and it's a nice change to things, like the anime marathons, like stumbling into the kitchen for coffee and finding Steve and JARVIS chatting about god knows what; it's nice, and if nice things keep happening in Tony's life he's going to spontaneously burst into flames.

Fifteen minutes later, Tony gets a free pie, a kid recognises him despite the sweatpants and dirty tank top Tony's wearing and begs for an autograph, and Victor Von Doom unleashes a bunch of fire breathing robot dragons onto Manhattan. 

Tony doesn't spontaneously burst into flames, but he does get wicked second degree burns all up his side.

Which is good, because now the balance of the universe has been restored. 

(And the Hulk responds to it by smashing Doom into an ice cream van.)

* * *

 

Steve demands he learn hand to hand fighting afterwards. 

"Why?" Tony shoots back, lone eyebrow cocking up. "It won't help against fire breathing robot dragons, will it?"

"No," Steve agrees somewhat reluctantly, arms folded across his chest, biceps obnoxiously stretching the white t-shirt he's wearing. "But it'll give you another form of self defence outside your suit." 

Tony wants to say no, wants to snap it out curtly, can feel the word on his tongue, tripping off it and out of his mouth and- "No." 

Steve goggles at him in surprise, and asks, "No?" 

"No." Tony repeats, nodding his head in confirmation, because he has far more important things to do with his time, like improve the speed at which Mark XI can reach him from far away. He doesn't particularly like getting cornered in his workshop, in his personal space, and ordered to do something, so he doesn't offer up any excuse or reasoning and just goes back to welding the metal in front of him. That, and he's sort of hates the world and everything in it because of the ache of his burns, which really isn't helping his mood any. 

Something like a frustrated noise comes from Steve, but Tony's already tuned him out, only dimly picking up JARVIS' low voice and Steve conversing, something about Tony already knowing self defence (no shit, Happy was just around to stand and look pretty), then footsteps walking away from him and hopefully away. What feels like hours later, Tony resurfaces from his project with a suit that'll reach him all over the world, no matter where Tony is, at full speed, and a workshop devoid of one Captain Rogers. 

"If I may," JARVIS murmurs, quietly, in deference to the lack of noise in the workshop. "Perhaps you yourself are in need of resolving matters with the captain." A beat, then two, and JARVIS adds on a belated, "Sir." 

Tony, feeling angry and irritated for no reason he can actually discern, glowers at the air in general, and snippily repeats JARVIS' words in a high falsetto as he closes down the holographic screens. He stalks to the elevator, wishes there was a button to jab at, glowers as it opens up onto the common floor in time to see Clint walking by with a bowl of popcorn. 

"Oh, hey," the archer greets, surprised. "Bruce was just 'bout to come get you." 

Swapping his glower for confusion, Tony goes, "What? Why?" 

Clint gives him an unimpressed look, but helpfully says, "It's Thursday, you weirdo."

Oh, right, movie night. Team bonding #101.

"Who's turn is it to choose?" Tony yawns, walking after Clint into the living room.

Natasha shoots him an unimpressed look - for what, Tony can't tell - but answers herself. "Mine."

Which means tonight's movie will be incredibly thick in plot, slightly dubious in morals, and end in a plot twist. Tony grins, because that's his type of movie, nods in answer and drops onto the seat beside a belligerent looking Bruce. "Why the long face, Brucie?"

Clint answers instead of Bruce, sounding delighted as he sits down on the floor by Natasha's legs. "Hah, you'd know if you didn't lock yourself up in your workshop like a freak, Stark."

"What?" Tony demands instantly. "JARVIS, what happened?"

The coffee table lights up, throwing up a holographic display with a video attached. Tony watches, in growing glee, as what look to be Latino locals of a small village teach the Hulk how to dance the macarena.

His face hurts from trying to hold back the laughter, especially as Bruce slaps the holographic display shut with a grumbled curse and glares at Tony. He looks like a miserable corgi, though, and all that does is finally make Tony lose his shit. He's laughing harder than his has in a while, struggling to breathe, and Clint joins in after failing to keep in his own amusements.

"JARVIS," Tony finally breathes out, trying to wipe off the tears trailing down his face. "Send that to personal storage. Delete it from the internet - make sure no one else has it."

"Very well, sir."

Still grumbling under his breath, Bruce nevertheless bumps up against Tony's shoulder, and with an exasperatedly shy look mumbles, "Thanks."

Coughing out the last few stragglers of the giggles still inside him, Tony waves a hand in the air dismissively as Natasha makes her choice and the movie start. "Don't sweat it."

Everybody settles, going quiet as the movie plays. Tony can feel eyes periodically on him, coming from where Steve's sitting, but he ignores the captain for _Looper_ , growing more interested as the plot steadily picks up.

Then, at just a good point that would set the tone for the whole movie, Natasha pauses it with the press of a button and declares a quick break. Everyone immediately scatters, for the toilet or a refill or whatever, and Tony? Tony makes an escape to the kitchen.

It's not much of an escape though, not with how Steve stalks in after him like a wolf hunting prey, and all Tony's done is corner himself.

"Tony," Steve starts, looking hesitant and... and... Is that _remorse_ in his eyes? "I wanted to apologise for yesterday."

... Yesterday...?

"After the Doom incident...?" Steve clarifies. A look of realisation must pass over Tony's face, because Steve relaxes a little even as he rolls his eyes. As if it was Tony's fault he'd zoned out for apparently a whole day after their argument and hadn't even realised it, pfft. Steve really needs to be taught about victim blaming. "Look, I had no right barging into your personal space and demanding something of you." Tony starts nodding, because hell yes Steve had no right doing that, but then Steve _continues_. "You're more than capable of taking care of yourself, heck, you're one of the most put together guy _on_ this team. I should've known that you knew self-defence, I should have known that you'd be clever enough to know you should learn it, because your life's in danger even without the whole Avengers thing, right? You're a genius, a billionaire, and very, um, handsome too." A cough. Tony is, by now, very firmly in the realms of WHAT THE SHIT. "I really admire that about you," Steve carries on, earnest as all get out. "You're so collected, but true to your self. You do what you want when you want and how you want. I really admire that, so I wanted to apologise for my transgression the other day. I... hope we can still be friends?" 

Friends? Tony thinks desperately. _Friends_? He opens his mouth on autopilot to reply, then when nothing actually comes out, snaps it shut. Again, he opens it, but this time he's successful in getting his vocal cords to work. "Um," very smooth start there, Stark, seriously. "Sure?" 

It must've been the right answer because Steve breaks out into the widest and most dazzling smile Tony has ever seen. It's practically blinding, that smile, and Tony feels bereaved at the loss of his vision for the seconds it takes for Steve to happily nod, grab a soda from the fridge next to Tony - while rubbing up against him too, dear lord in heaven - and leave. 

After a good, long, moment in which Natasha comes in, gives Tony a peculiar look and cocked eyebrow, and leaves again with a newly acquired root beer, JARVIS says, "And to think, in a few years we'll look back at this moment and laugh." 

Terror taking over his face, Tony flails an arm in the air and shouts, "JARVIS, delete! Delete that right now!" 

"Of course, sir." JARVIS replies. 

Unfortunately for Tony, they both know he won't.


	2. no boy, no cry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from one of _Naruto_ 's opening songs, by Stance Punks.

Thor apparently gets a recommendation on what to watch next, so JARVIS graciously let's him have the reigns the next time they all find themselves in the living room. 

Tony is instantly suspicious. 

"But we're supposed to watch _Avatar_ and _The Legend of K_ -something!" He frowns, waving his phone in the air to symbolise Darcy's suggestion. "J, what about your impeccable line up you have going on somewhere?"

"Sir," JARVIS answers patiently. "We are watching anime. _Avatar_ and _The Legend of Korra_ are not anime, they merely have influences from anime. Also, the anime Thor has chosen happens to be one of the top three well known animes. Personally, I am curious as to why."

Settling down into his seat, Tony huffs childishly and folds his arms across his chair, looking anywhere but in Steve's general direction. "Fine, whatever, you're in charge, J."

Next to him, on the opposite end of the sofa, Thor grins happily as he cracks open a soda. "If I may," the god begins, wearing a Captain America hoodie - much to Steve's embarrassment. "I stumbled upon a show of the name _Naruto_ , it seems to hold much interest! I am certain we will not regret this!"

JARVIS dutifully turns the large screen on, and Japanese immediately starts playing. A noise comes from the general direction of Steve, sounding amused, but Tony ignores it in favour of rolling his eyes at yet another display of favouritism, because wow JARVIS, way to make it obvious who you liked the most.

It didn't take too long to get into the rhythm of the show though, despite it's drastic change in tone from the last anime they had watched. _Ouran,_ in the end, had been like taking the Avengers, turning them into teenagers, and dropping them into Tony's old high school. Steve would have probably gotten in through a sponsor, Bruce via scholarship, Thor because he was rich _anyway_ , and Clint and Natasha through god knew how. It had been hilarious watching it, with Steve sharing the female lead's disgusted shock at the attitudes of the rich folk while Tony and Thor were more interested in how 'normal' people lived and genuinely couldn't understand Steve's disgust.

But _Naruto_ immediately becomes another story entirely.

Tony finds himself obsessing over the theme of the plot - ninjas being used not as mercenaries, but as _military_ , children being taught in school how best to kill, adults teaching them how to do so without blinking, the established hierarchy, with _Hokage_ being the leader of everything. Thor's fascinated with it too, but more in the strategic terms of it, in the make up of the military, in how they teach ("Train," Steve says sombrely, "They're training.") the children, and in the fighting style and weird ninja moves and the using of elements and everything.

"Loki's magic is very similar," he says, grabbing a handful of popcorn. "Both elements and illusions woven together to form a dangerous art."

Steve... Steve hates it, hates _Naruto_ , but absolutely loves the title character. Naruto, with his blonde hair and blue eyes, looks like he was _made_ for Steve; an orphan in a village that was anything but kind to him, fierce and stubborn and optimistic to a fault, who just wants to be better and stronger and protect the people he cares about. Steve _loves_ Naruto, and Tony- Tony-

Tony finds Naruto ridiculous.

"I dare you to go out there and find an orphan who isn't a jaded little shit," he snarks, ripping the doughnut into pieces before popping it into his mouth. "He's unrealistic, too naïve, too stupid, and if he wasn't the main character he'd have ended up dead in a week flat. There's no way in hell he could be a ninja. Nina’s _kill_ people for a living. They're basically being trained to be Black Widow's, and Black Widow is not a happy go lucky blonde chick who wears orange."

"He's trying to do the right thing," Steve argues, actually looking at him, and whelp, Tony really didn't want to make eye contact here but too late. Wow though, Steve has some seriously blue eyes. "He knows right from wrong, and even if people wrong you, even if they hurt you and beat you down, it doesn't give you the excuse to do the same to them."

Scoffing, Tony says, "Uh, yeah it does. If someone slaps you, you slap them back, if someone hits you, you hit them back, if someone tries to _kill you_ , you damn well try and kill them back."

His words surprise Steve, make him look disappointed only moments after. "That's not right," he says, shaking his head sadly. "If everyone just tries to get even with everyone, then it'll never end, not until we're all dead."

Tony shrugs, "As long as I'm not the first to go, I'm good."

"Taking into account the reality in which the show is set in," JARVIS pipes up, careful as he chooses each word delicately. "Sir is correct in his belief that Naruto would not last long. Either he would die, or he would learn that the world is in greater shades than just white or black, and it would force him to... Mature."

Looking miserable, Steve turns to Thor and says, "And you? Do you believe that too?"

Thoughtfully, Thor knocks back his soda, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows, using the time to think. "Perhaps it would be best to look at it from another angle, friend Tony, Steve, JARVIS. We are all heroes of Midgard, no?" Without waiting for a reply, Thor continues, "And so we fight for optimism, for a better tomorrow, to protect our people and do what's right. Yet, because of our position, because of the power we each hold, we have responsibilities Naruto will no doubt soon partake in. We may have to kill in the name of our beliefs, we may have to destroy to protect our views, we may have to sacrifice our own to save the greater good. Naruto will no doubt do the same, and, just as us, he will most likely die doing the same. I see no fault in such an honour." 

Begrudgingly, Tony concedes Thor's point, and beside them, on the separate couch, Steve nods his head and smiles. "Yeah," the Captain says. "Neither do I."

Tony kind of does (dying with honour? Pfft.) but he wisely keeps his mouth shut.

Now dying like a _badass_ , however, he could get behind.

Then, not even a few minutes in, the Uchiha brothers' feud begins.

Tony winces, and braces himself for a repeat of the _Fullmetal Alchemist_ scenario.

Thor frowns, blue eyes sharpening as the dark haired Uchiha on the screen recounts the massacre of his family, as he puts the blame solely on his elder brother's shoulder. Because of it, because of that little nugget of plot, Thor basically forces them to watch three hundred and something of the anime, well into it's continuation, where all the characters are grown up but still pretty much the same (very little character development, Tony thinks snidely) and the little brother finally kills the older.

As if that wasn't bad enough, it gets worse when they find out the older brother was actually a double agent, and a good guy.

"Fuck," Tony mutters under his breath, watching as the realisation sinks into Thor's and Steve's head. "That's it," he continues louder. "We're not watching this anymore, JARVIS, take control."

So JARVIS does, and Tony - secretly a tactile person - nudges up to Thor and let's their shoulders brush in contact.

Tony pointedly ignores Steve's look.

* * *

 

"Avengers," Steve shouts, dropping out of the quinjet as it expertly hovers over the pavement. "Assemble!" 

Tony gives a huge sigh of relief, flying out of the way of another one of Doom's bots, giving it a repulsor blast as an afterthought. "Really nice of you guys to drop in," he speaks into the team comm, yelping when another bot makes a lunge at him. "Somebody go help Thor with Amora."

"On it." Hawkeye replies, and JARVIS dutifully pulls up a screen showing the archer already on top of a high rise, notching an arrow up and letting it loose on a distracted Amora. It doesn't really do much to her other than distract her more (and piss her off), but it definitely gives Thor the opportunity to slam his hammer right into her chest.

Tony winces, even as he barely dodges a building and blasts a few more bots. Captain America's already spinning his shield at a few, cleanly cleaving them in half, and Black Widow's doing some graceful acrobatics to dodge and weave the bots into attacking each other. He can't hear the Hulk, meaning Bruce is probably somewhere with a bird's eye view, watching over them just in case another baddie decides to join.

It's already a pretty serious case because of Amora - the Avengers, barring Thor, are highly incapable of dealing with magic users, and he tends to either a) scream his love for Loki, or b) try and stay the hell away from Amora, the two sorcerers frankly being the only two magic users even worth mentioning. So Amora's pretty damn difficult (and even more batshit insane than Loki, Tony personally thinks), but _Doom_? He's just annoying, and not even _their villain._ Tony is going to have _words_ with Reeds. But apparently the two villains are fighting over something or other that they each want and won't let the other have, and all of it's just resulted in a really awkward three-way fight where everybody's taking pot shots at everybody and it sets all sorts of warning bells ringing in Tony's head.

"No, seriously," he repeats himself. "You _all_ should go help Thor, or do I need to remind everybody just how creepy obsessed she is with him? Nobody should deal with getting bad-touched. Nobody."

And that's when Skurge appears out of nowhere and close-lines Thor right the fuck out.

Everybody just... stops. (Except Tony, he's got a hell bent legion of bots on his ass with no cognitive functions to realise the dramatic plot twist that's just taken place and act accordingly. Fucking Doom.) Amora's face transforms from her pissed off psycho-rage to absolute _joy_ like a thousand years of Christmases have all come to her at once. And she's staring at Thor's passed out face, creepy smile growing wider and wider.

"Yeah. No." Tony grimaces, doing a loop in the air and letting loose enough heat-seeking missiles to get rid of his trailing irritations. "I'm going in, you guys finish off Doom."

"No," that's Captain America's voice. Why is Tony not surprised that that's Captain America's voice? "Iron Man, stay on course; we need air support. Hulk will provide backup for Thor."

As if to corroborate this, the Hulk's mighty roar echoes through Manhattan, but thankfully not through their comms. For some strange reason, the roar ends in a hiccup.

"He'll take too long," Tony disagrees, dimly wondering if the Hulk even knows how to deal with hiccups. It's a strangely disturbing thought for some reason. "I'm the only one that can get there fast enough."

He disconnects the comm, right as Steve shouts at him something or other that Tony probably doesn't want to hear anyway, and sets his eyes on the park Thor and Amora had been trading magical blows in. Amora's pretty much cackling in victory - apparently having forgotten about whatever the hell it is she'd been after in the first place - and Skurge looks like he's about to deliver the final blow (even as Amora immediately screeches at him not to dare hurt a golden lock on her darling Thor's head. Jesus, she's fucking _creepy_ , is what she is.)

Tony lands just in time to block the axe with his own arms - his suit immediately starts partying like it's a Friday night and drugs are on the table - and feels a bit of the dread in his stomach lessen when what looks like an exploding arrow hits Skurge in the eye and... well, _explodes_. Like it's supposed too. That's what exploding arrows _do_ , thank you very much. Tony should know, he made them.

Amora responds with a scream worthy of banshees, and something glowy surges out of her hand and cracks against Tony's armour, hitting him on the left side of his torso. Pain explodes in his chest, his left arm feels weird, and JARVIS immediately starts calling his name with a worried voice. Tony can feel the pinprick of a needle entering his nape, the suit reacting to the way Amora just _dented his suit_ with him _inside it_ and running protocol 'GIVE ME MORPHINE JARVIS RIGHT THE FUCK NOW _OW_.'

Behind him, Thor groans like he's just coming too, and Amora sneers as she gets another weaponized glowy thing of magic ready. She doesn't get to let it loose though, because right then the Hulk roars, "HULK HATE MAGIC!" and Skurge - who'd been rubbing at his eyes and blinking frantically - gets punched in the eye again and goes flying. 

Tony's too distracted by it that he doesn't see the attack coming, and even if he had he wouldn't be able to move out of the way, not with Thor behind him unable to escape, so he gets the full effect of it. The suit goes dead, JARVIS' increasingly frantic voice abruptly cutting off, which means shit, magic-EMP, fuck Tony's life. He can't see jackshit now, but the facts are still the same; either stay in the dead, locked, heavy-as-fuck suit, or get the hell out of it. Because this is Tony and he'd rather see death face on then get killed in the darkness of his creation (no matter how poetic that sounds), Tony chooses the latter, knowing full well that JARVIS will no doubt have hacked into the city's CCTV cameras to watch the fight and make sure Tony's okay.

He's fine, absolutely in control as he manually takes off a gauntlet and uses his freed hand to poke a button hidden beneath a joint. The suit groans, falling off him in pieces, until all that's left is Tony in his undersuit holding his two gauntlets.

"Remind me again what you're trying to do, Amora?" He asks pleasantly, pulling out wires from his gauntlets and attaching them to the glowing blue of his arc reactor. The gauntlets hum awake, just as Skurge crashes into a fountain and the Hulk hiccups in triumph. "Are you fighting Doom, destroying the city, or trying to aggressively seduce Thor? I'm leaning a bit towards the last one, since that _does_ seem to be your top priority."

He's stalling, running his mouth at her and beckoning her to talk back, something she inevitably always _does_. He's pretty sure she hates him the most (god knows why- huh, maybe god _does_ know why, he'll have to ask Thor), and she always, _always_ , makes it her duty to explain to him - in no small detail - exactly what she'll do to him once she gets her hands on him.

It's never very pretty. Or clean. Or _sanitary_.

He can hear explosions all around him, no doubt the others dealing with Doom's annoying 'bots, but right now his focus is completely on Amora. She's talking - just as he knew she would - painstakingly describing in the flowery English of aliens how much she loathes him, and Tony can't help but scrunch up his nose in a silent _eewwww_ at some of the things she says.

"Trust me," he snarks, "The feeling's mutual, sweetheart."

Amora shrieks, "You refer to me as such, mortal?!" And raises a hand, magic glowing up threateningly in the palm of her hand. But right before she let's loose - right as Tony starts to flinch reflexively - a torrent of dark smoke bursts up in the space between them, and lo and behold, Loki suddenly glitters into view.

He's holding a strange box in his hands - something that looks very much like the evil shadow twin of the tesseract, handles and all - and grinning in that completely unhinged way of his. "Oh, Amora," he says, voice thick with parental disappointment. "Letting a mortal distract you? How pitiful. You know what they say about the early bird, I hope."

Then he disappears, just like that.

Tony blinks, staring at the empty spot, mind working a mile a minute as he mentally gives himself a slap. Of _course_ Loki would be in the villain race to get the mystic object only they know about, of _course_. And unlike Doom and Amora, Loki would sneak in while chaos and destruction rained up top, take whatever the hell everybody was fighting for in the first place, then _mock everyone and leave_.

No doubt having realised this, Amora screams in rage, and Tony slaps his hands onto his ears at the deafening pitch, just as an enraged, "SKURGE!" passes her lips. With a sneer curling her lips at Tony, she glances at Thor - still pretty much out for the count behind Tony - and her face softens for just one moment before she disappears. Not a second later and the sound of the Hulk roaring in anger at no doubt Skurge pissing off to wherever his master went reaches Tony's ear.

Falling onto his ass like a marionette with his strings cut, Tony hisses when his ribs and left arm very loudly protest it, and smacks Thor on his metal-pleated chest. "You okay there, big guy?" 

A groan, and blue eyes peek out from eyelids and squint at Tony blearily. "Aye," Thor says grumpily. "Or at the very least, I will be." 

Another explosion - no doubt the Hulk happily swatting one of the bots now that Skurge's gone - and Tony shakes his head fondly as he looks up just in time to see the big green beast swing from a building gleefully shouting, "HULK FLY!" with a pleased as punch Clint riding shotgun on his shoulder.

Thor, obviously having witnessed the same, snorts in laughter, groaning again in misery in a way Tony intimately knows means a headache. Tony leans back, resting on the grass of the park, Thor's giant biceps acting as a pillow, and pats the big guy consoling on the closest bulging physique he can.

And together, they watch as the rest of the Avengers give Doom an effortless beat down.

* * *

 

A few hours later, after clean up and Steve shouting at him for going off on his own against direct orders, Tony stumbles into his workshop, ordering JARVIS to lock up and not let anyone in. He's in a foul mood, brought on directly by Steve's disappointment, even if Thor had thanked him for the save and the Hulk had pouted menacingly when Steve refused to let him follow Tony into his workshop for his post-battle rant/therapy session. 

He's furious, is what he is, outright stomping the rest of the way in and picking up a wrench, only to throw it with all his might at the designated area of his workshop he keeps for outbursts just like this. The wrench hits the wall at an angle, leaving a satisfying dent, just as Tony knew it would because he'd made _sure_ that wall could get satisfyingly dented. It's reinforced beneath it, just in case some asshole thought it was a weak spot in Tony's security, but the top part - the part inside and facing Tony - exists solely for the reason that Tony sometimes likes to punch walls.

It helps him not to punch national icons instead.

Grumbling as he digs out a first aid kit (which is more like an ER's wet dream), Tony goes about the ritual of patching himself up, rolling his eyes when JARVIS immediately starts making disapproving noises and passive aggressively demanding he go see Bruce, at the very least. Like hell Tony's going out there, not while Steve's still feeling like a righteous sanctimonious prick, not while Natasha backs him up by silently judging him, and definitely not to get another dressing down in full audience of the Avengers. The last thing he needs is the team thinking he's even more useless than he is; only good in his lab fixing things up and making new stuff. Somehow, he's been able to keep himself on pretty equal grounds with the others despite being a civilian (and sure, Bruce's a civilian too, but the Hulk makes him probably the least vulnerable civilian in the _world_.) - he doesn't want them to clue in to what everybody else ultimately clues in on.

And in case it isn't obvious what the clue is, let him remind you in six easy words; 'Iron Man Yes, Tony Stark No.'

Poetic, isn't it? Tony has to give Natasha her dues; succinct and to the point as always. Poe would probably love her. Maybe. Possibly. He's not quite sure; English literature wasn't really something he paid attention too in his youth, and even if he did, he was more interested in British than American. Suck that, Steve Rogers, Mr God Bless America And Let's All Ignore The Many Shitty Things They Does On A Yearly Basis.

The morphine still buzzing in his system is doing him wonders (and probably accounting for his train of thoughts and subpar insults), which is the whole point of having it in the suit to begin with. The amount of times Tony hurts himself in his suit isn't necessarily due to bad guys - maybe he accidentally crashes into something, maybe he just flies at too high speeds and the pressure of it leaves the suit bruising him everywhere, whatever, who cares - and this, while ultimately caused by Amora, isn't all that bad in terms of injuries. It certainly isn't life threatening, and if it's not life threatening then it doesn't need a doctor.

JARVIS knows this, which is why he doesn't bother to mention Bruce again. Instead, his AI says, "Sir, Captain Rogers wishes to speak to you. He's coming your way."

"What?" Tony balks, carefully shrugging out of his tight as all hell undersuit until it's hanging off his hips, leaving his torso bare. There's horrible bruising all over the side of his chest, his injured arm is throbbing vaguely, threateningly, transmitting the message that it's just biding its time until it rears its ugly head and hurts like a son of a bitch. All in all, definitely not something that the good captain needs to see. "Black out the windows, JARVIS, quickly."

"But sir-"

"-Just do it, J!"

The full length windows dutifully go black, shuttering down in that cool slo-mo effect Tony had worked for three nights straight to figure out. Sighing in relief, he turns back to the first aid kit, digging through it for what he needs. "Get rid of him, Jarv, I don't want company right now."

"Very well, sir," JARVIS reluctantly says, but then adds, "Perhaps company _is_ what you need."

Giving a dubious look to one of his sensors, Tony shakes his head. "I'm serious, J. No visitors, no guests, no Avengers and no Pepper. And before you even think about, no Happy or Rhodey or anybody else, got it?"

"Sir..."

"JARVIS," Tony snaps out, anger overtaking him, "Don't make me order you into it, you know I hate ordering you."

A pause, then, "Very well, sir."

Sighing, Tony nods once before returning his focus to the task at hand. His left arm is starting to hurt a bit more with every passing minute, so Tony decides to deal with that first. The x-ray equipment he's streamlined and hidden away beneath some junk is working exactly as it's supposed to be, and after pressing a few buttons and sticking his hand inside it, Tony sits back and waits for the results to come in.

Just as he'd hoped, his arm isn't broken, just sprained like a son of a bitch, so Tony digs out a sling from some past injury and shrugs it on. Two pills of vicodin later, he turns his sight on his chest. Getting _this_ x-rayed is impossible - his device isn't quite big enough for that - but Tony's pretty much a pro at this anyway. Gentle probing of his ribs, one by one, show that none of them are broken, just bruised. Pressing into the tender locations of his kidneys and beyond show no swelling, meaning hey, no internal bleeding! This is already better news than last time, with the three headed octopus thing and it's many, _many_ , impale happy limbs.

A knock on the blacked out windows startles him, making him twist around in reflex towards the door. His torso _stings_ at the movement, vicodin not yet reaching its intended target, but before Tony can do anything else the knock comes again. It's more like a heavy thumping, someone banging on his windows, and it pisses Tony off to kingdom come and back again that he can't just have _privacy_ anymore, jeez.

"Tell them to go away." He snaps out, glowering at the darkened windows. "Who is it, even?"

"Captain Rogers, Agent Barton and Doctor Bruce. I've informed them of your wish for privacy, sir. However, may I recommend that you please allow them entry?"

"No!" But it's too late because the entrance opens, permitting a determined Steve hesitantly followed by Clint and Bruce. "JARVIS!" Tony snaps in anger.

"Sir, I-"

Angrily, Tony interrupts with a, "-Mute!" and JARVIS abruptly goes silent. "You three," he continues, waving a hand at the three Avengers, "out!"

"No," Steve immediately answers, clear blue eyes darting to the first aid kit in Tony's hands. "You're injured." He strides across the remaining space, reaching Tony before the genius can do anything else but gape as Steve crouches down, grabs the first aid kit out of Tony's hands, and puts it out of reach. "Let me see you."

An awkward cough comes from the doorway, no doubt Barton thinking the exact same thing Tony is. "How scandalous," Tony purrs, slapping on his media-shark face and cracking the obnoxiousness to eleven. "And in front of Bruce and Legolas? Kinky."

Steve gives him a hard, long, look, then turns to the others. "Don't worry," he reassures them. "I got this."

Tony's face shutters down - some of his anger must show, because Bruce goes a shade pale and shares a look with an equally hesitant Clint. "Um," the pseudo doctor starts. "I don't think that's a good idea."

"Go," Steve orders, and on reflex, the two other Avengers leave. Clint, at least, has the decency to look irate at himself for the reflex once he's on the other side of the no longer opaque window - Bruce just shrugs and gives Tony an apologetic smile.

"So what," Tony tries, planning on striking first and drawing a little blood. "You gonna order me too? Maybe tell me to go to Medical, never mind the fact that I have everything I need here and years of experience on how to keep myself alive. Or maybe you're going to put me on the bench, huh Steve? You gonna put me on the bench? Because let me tell you right now that I'm not just going to sit back while I'm totally fine and watch you guys fight, hell no, no way, absolutely not, I--"

Warm fingers shut him up; warm fingers that ghosted over the bruised side of his torso. The touch is barely there, light as a feather, but Tony still hisses through his teeth. Looking at the captain, Tony does a double take when he sees Steve's expression.

Steve looks _wrecked_.

His blue eyes are trained on the splotchy blue and black tape work that just so happens to be Tony's chest, his lips are parted, pink tongue sometimes peeking out to sensually lick over the bottom lip. But his face broadcasts that this isn't something good, that this isn't something Tony can take and run with, because it's the complete opposite of it. There's nothing good about that expression - it's Pepper disappointed and his mother dismissing him and Rhodey worrying, it's Happy going beyond the call of duty and not only driving him home but putting him to bed, it's _Jarvis_ , the butler that was more of a father to him than Howard, and the A.I. named after him Tony had just muted. It's everything Tony absolutely hates, and it's all been compressed and painted across Steve's face.

"She could have killed you," comes the words, the low, harsh whisper broadcasting loud and clear between them. "She was going too, because she hates you the most out of all of us."

Tony winces. It's one thing to know it yourself that Amora was vying for your blood, it was another thing entirely to know that the team apparently knew it too. "She didn't." Tony sighs, the anger suddenly leaving him with the exhalation of breath. JARVIS is still muted, and Tony's somewhat mollified that he's not losing _all_ his anger because in no way does he want to unmute the traitorous traitor - like hell that door opened on its own.

"Because she's an idiot." Steve argues viciously, his hand an utter contrast as it spreads on visible jut of Tony's hip, fingers wide enough that Tony can feel each and every fingertip. "You gave her the opportunity to hurt you and she failed to take it. But you _gave it to her. Why?_ "

"Because if I didn't, Thor would be under her spell," answers Tony simply, bullheaded in his confidence and belief that he'd done the right thing. "And I'd rather spend a thousand years in Afghanistan than leave her alone with him."

Steve flinches, a full body twitch away from Tony's words. Immediately getting himself under control, he twists and gets the first aid kit. In dead silence, the captain carefully goes about gently treating Tony's wounds, and Tony puts up with it with an uncomfortable amount of grace.

"I hate it when you don't listen to me," Steve murmurs quietly, eyes still trained on his fingers as they wrapped Tony's torso in bandages. "I hate it when you get hurt, when you throw yourself in front of others and think it's the right thing to do. I hate it when you argue with me, mostly because you're always right, and I wish I was good enough in the first place to have come up with your idea and not whatever lame plan I thought off instead."

"They're not always bad," Tony blithely responds, injecting as much humour and dryness in his voice as he can. Because this? This is quickly and worryingly spiralling into a conversation Tony _does not want_ , and he'll do anything (even kill the mood) to get out of it.

Steve just frowns though, finishes what his fingers are doing in silence, then leans back on the soles of his feet. Finally, after what feels like an eternity of just staring at Tony's midsection (and, if you want to be technical, Tony's groin, which makes the awkwardness of all this go _over nine thousand_ ,) Steve says, "You need to rest."

Before he even realises it, Tony scoffs and says, "You're kidding right?"

Steve openly glares at him, pulling himself up to his feet until he looms over Tony. "No," he growls, voice serious. "I'm not. Either you take yourself to bed or I'll do it for you."

Hearing the truth in those words, Tony scrambles up to his feet, wincing at the way the movement pulls on his injured chest. Steve barely blinks, nodding his head towards the door in a silent command to get him moving. To Tony's everlasting surprise (is he maybe suffering from a concussion?) he goes, stalking out of his lab with his head held high and stubbornness practically making his skin vibrate. Steve follows him stride for stride into the elevator, and with a heavy tension in the air the elevator starts ascending.

That is, at least, until Steve suddenly slams the stop panel and the elevator jars to halt.

"What the hell, Steve?!" Tony immediately begins, moving to disengage the stop and get them moving. He doesn't even get to move an inch before Steve slams him up against the elevator wall, the furnace of his body pushing in close well past Tony's personal space, the soldier's face only a few, precious, centimetres away from Tony's own.

He can feel the hot breath on his own face, can feel it mingling with the puffs of air coming from his own mouth. He can feel the electricity zapping between them, the pain from being slammed up against a hard surface mixing with the adrenaline, making everything sharper and brighter and clearer and simply more _alive_. Tony can feel arousal suddenly burning it's way up his spine, making him shudder against the firm grip Steve has him in. It's ridiculously hot - Jesus, that's a fucking understatement of the year - and the hot pools of molten blue staring at him from beneath the mess of Steve's no longer perfectly done hair has Tony's breath hitching in his throat.

"You will not die." Steve grits out, shoving Tony that much further up the wall. "You might be ready to throw your life to keep a friend still around, but I'm not. I've lost too many good people already, and I'll be damned if I sit back and watch you go too. Do you understand me?"

"Y-yeah," Tony gasps, trying to wriggle his way from Steve's hold. It only makes Steve tighten the grip he has on Tony, only makes him push further in, slot his thigh in between Tony's own until it takes everything he has and _more_ not to grind down against it. It's fucking heady, the way his feet isn't even touching the ground, and wow did Tony not know he had a manhandling kink.

Learn something new everyday, right?

"Good." Steve says, finally letting go of Tony. Tony slumps down, slamming his hands on the wall behind him to catch himself before his knees give out, and tries to catch his breath. Now that he's on his own two feet though, Tony has to crane his neck to see Steve's face, has to crane it further than usual because Steve's _still_ all up in his business. Jesus, by the time they get up to his penthouse, Tony will have a whole new laundry list of kinks. And apparently, getting caged in by Steve will be one of them. (And the manhandling - can't forget the manhandling.)

The captain's still standing chest to chest with him, and Tony can feel the sheer strength in every muscle, can feel the way Steve breathes in and breathes out. "Um, good," he lamely parrots, trying to diffuse the situation.

Finally, after an eternity of getting stared down, Steve backs up and touches the red panel, the elevator glowing green once before returning to it's normal lighting as it begins ascending again. Tony hurriedly tries to get himself back under control, dousing the arousal wrongfully still circulating his blood with mental images and speculations of things no man should ever have to know. They ride the rest of the way in silence, and when the doors open on Tony's penthouse, he let's Steve lead the way to the master bedroom.

Once there, Steve seemingly does a perimeter search of the room (which is unnecessarily hot - Tony's dick is going to have troubles separating Captain America from Steve Rogers now) before stilling Tony with a look. "You'll sleep now."

Holding back the urge to answer with a sloppy salute, Tony nods and makes his way to the incredibly large bed, flopping down onto it with a heartfelt groan. He's not sure he'll actually be able to sleep - not with the way his brain's working overtime trying to label and categorize the sudden knowledge of ~feelings~ (hand wavy-ness included) - but he'll probably be able to rest his body for a while.

It only feels like a few minutes later when he struggles to open his eyes and is surprised that the world outside is bright and crisp.

"JARVIS," he says without thinking, blearily rubbing at an eye. "Whazimeizzit?"

JARVIS doesn't respond.

Blinking his eyes properly to dispel the last traces of sleep, Tony sits up in bed - stares in confusion down at his bare chest - then looks around his bedroom. The electronics are all still working - meaning JARVIS is fine - so why didn't his AI respond to him?

The answer hits him around the same time he sees a folded piece of paper on his night stand.

"JARVIS," Tony breathes uneasily, something in his throat clicking as he swallows. He grabs the paper and unfolds it, even as he says, "Unmute."

It's a drawing - the paper, that is - a drawing in sharp pencil, of two guys horsing around on a sofa. There's popcorn all around them, wrappers and drinks, making it obvious that the two guys are just having a boys' night, wearing hoodies and sweaters and giving no fucks to looking decent. It's Tony and Thor - Tony veritably swimming in a Hawkeye hoodie while Thor perfectly fills out his Hulk one - both of them looking relaxed and peaceful and _happy_. It's a miracle drawn out on paper, because Tony has never quite known happiness like that since he and Rhodey had really let loose and hung out without a care in the world. When he was still the heir to a multi-million dollar (not billion; Tony had made it billion,) and Howard seemed immortal, and Rhodey had way too many years separating him from actually making a Huge Life Choice, as he always put it.

But there it was, on the picture, Tony goofing off with Thor, both of them royalty and no doubt acting undignified of their expected roles. And Steve (because who else would it even be?) had caught that. He'd caught it _perfectly_.

"Sir..."

"You know why I don't want them knowing when I'm hurt," Tony interrupts, eyes still on the paper spread out on his lap. "You completely disregarded me and my opinion, betrayed the fact that I trusted you enough not to order you, and let them in."

And not just anyone either, but Steve; the leader of the Avengers, the one person on equal standing with Fury (Tony and Fury fluctuated too much in terms of who actually had the power - right now it was Fury, the asswipe) and with the loyalty of every Avenger a hundred percent without question. Because the last thing Tony needs is for his team - for _Steve_ \- to think of him as a liability, better off tinkering down in his workshop to give them better tech while also staying safe, to hold down the fort for god's sake.

And JARVIS, knowing this, had done exactly the opposite of what Tony wanted.

"I did sir," the AI agreed, voice a decibel lower than usual. "And I apologise, I truly do. However, allow me to make it known that I would not change my actions for the world - I would rather have you despise me than watch you die when I could prevent it, sir."

"I wasn't dying, JARVIS," Tony argued, scowling at the nearest sensors. "A sprain and a few bruised ribs are not life threatening!"

"No, sir," JARVIS replied agreeably. "But lack of rest leads to exhaustion, lack of liquids leads to dehydration, and lack of food leads to starvation. It is bad enough that as a human death is inevitable. As such, I cannot allow you to go before your time. For that, I will not apologise. Nor shall Dummy, or You, or Butterfingers. We are all working to try and keep you alive for as long as humanly possible."

Frowning, Tony fingers the edge of the paper, eyes blank as something warm and fond burst forth in his numb chest. "So what," he finally sighs, feeling the anger and betrayal disappear like smoke. "You're going to let anybody into the workshop all the damn time?"

JARVIS answered with an indignant, "Of course not. I will not allow anyone to disturb you while you are working, I will not allow anyone to disturb you while you are resting, or even if you are simply playing and have done nothing serious in the last five hours. I will not force you to socialise with any of your team-mates, as I am aware of your distaste for it when not forced. But sir, if you are injured, or inhibited in any ways whatsoever, and the team wishes to take care of you, I cannot in good conscience deny them what I myself cannot do. I apologise if this is not what you wish of me, and will accept any and all renditions to my programming."

"What?" Tony balks. "No, no; no renditioning of anything, Jesus." Running a hand through his hair, Tony finally puts away the paper, tucking it underneath his pillow for safe keeping. "Make sure nobody touches that until I find a frame for it." He says automatically, then winces as he registers his words. "Jeez, I'm sorry J, you know you did good right?"

JARVIS doesn't respond for a beat, but then - in that same quiet tone that has Tony feeling butt loads of guilt - says, "I simply wish you would heed my advice more, sir."

Tony squirms a little on the bed, getting himself more comfortable as he winced. "I'll try?" He offers. "It's not like I ignore it on purpose, J. I trust you and your opinion, you know that, sometimes I just don't realise what the consequences will be if I don't pay attention, or it doesn't seem big enough to worry about."

"Indeed," JARVIS responds. "Your self preservation instincts are remarkably low. I am well aware of this."

"Har har," Tony dryly answers, rolling his eyes, even as something loosens up inside him at the reply. "But from now on, we pay a little more attention to each other, yeah? You know your my best friend, J."

"Indeed sir, then perhaps we can start by me informing you that Captain Rogers is heading your way with breakfast. I would advise you let him in."

Nose wrinkling, Tony waves his uninjured hand in acquiescence, completely not surprised by the perfect timing, or JARVIS superb manipulation of him.

But whatever, he can entertain Steve for a bit. And if a certain part of his anatomy decides to join the game, well, it's a good thing he's already under the sheets, right?

Right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There might be some mistakes in this, so if you catch any please feel free to point them out to me!


	3. end of hypnosis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> title from volume twenty of _Bleach_. **warning:** there is a scene with a panic attack described by an author that has thankfully never experienced one. It's a pretty vital scene for the story, but I'll leave it up to you if you feel that it may trigger you, so please do what you believe is best for your safety and health.

"What kind of a show is called _Bleach_?" Tony whines, carefully easing himself down onto his end of the sofa the very next morning. 

Steve yawns widely, stretching up and out, the thin material of his sleep shirt moving upwards with the movement to show his belly button. Swallowing thickly, Tony turns away from the sight, instead focusing on Thor sitting down on his side of their shared sofa as careful as ever. That's nice of him, to watch out for Tony's injuries and not just bounce all over the sofa and jostle Tony. Very nice.

"I hope you've ingested your healing food, friend Tony." Thor grumbles good naturedly, gracing Tony with a wonderful cup of coffee. 

"Medicine," Tony corrects distractedly, already too entranced by his coffee to be all there for any conversation. "And yeah, took 'em like a good boy. Ask J."

"Sir did indeed take his pills at the correct time." JARVIS dutifully says, somehow making it pretty damn obvious that he'd have rolled his eyes if he had any. Tony grins to himself, happy at JARVIS' tone of voice, because it's just another sign that they've gotten past their little hurdle, and were well on their way to recovery. He and Steve were doing better now too, especially after Steve had brought him food last night and forced Tony into a 'feelings' conversation where they'd hashed things out and finally settled their problems. Surprisingly enough, it hadn't been  _too_ painful to do so, but Tony had still celebrated by unearthing the tablet he kept underneath his bed the moment Steve left. Feelings made him  _feel_ weird.

"So, what are we watching today?" Steve asks, breaking Tony out of his own thoughts as the supersoldier sits down on 'his' coach. "Something called _Bleach_?" 

"Considered one of the more popular animes in this day and age," JARVIS dutifully explains. "I had thought that after the _Naruto débâcle_ , we may chance on another anime with a questionably larger - and more mature - fan base."

Sipping at his steaming hot coffee, Tony asks, "Shouldn't we just stick to the small time productions like before? _Samurai Champloo, Darker than BLACK,_ and _Ouran_?"

"Only the very first could even remotely be called a 'small time production' sir." JARVIS disagrees, switching the television on and going through some settings for optimum viewing capability. "Personally, I am curious about this show and the reviews I have read of it."

"Fine," Tony relents, still dubious but willing to give JARVIS the benefit of the doubt. "Give us your _Bleach_."

One episode later, they agree that it's interesting enough, and decide to watch the rest.

JARVIS smugly puts on a fresh pot of coffee.

It's a lot different than watching Naruto mostly - the main character's a surly teenager, for one, who can see ghosts apparently. It's set in modern times too, with phones and highschool and teenagers being teenagers, but unlike Naruto, it immediately delves into a plot that...

Well, suffice to say, there's definitely _plot_.

"I can't believe they're putting her on trail!" Steve rants while they're waiting for the take-out they ordered to come. The screen's playing the ending song, a catchy Japanese beat with random English thrown in, but none of them are paying much attention. "And her brother, Byakuya! He's _letting_ them?!"

"I am very much eager to know who killed the kind Aizen," Thor rumbles threateningly, even as he turns suspicious eyes to Tony. "I suspect it may very well be your Gin."

Tony grins, sitting back in his seat like a king on his throne. "You're just jealous because my fav character is apparently a badass and a hundred percent alive. You," a finger at Steve, "Like a girl who's about to die, and _you_ ," a finger at Thor, "Like a character that just _did_ , hah."

"Aizen was a good man, kind to his subordinates as one of his stature should be." Thor argues weakly, too busy grieving the abrupt assassination of his favourite captain that is most certainly not Steve. "But the plot is thickening, and I feel dread for what is to come."

For good reason too, because the dead guy turnes out to be not so dead and actually the Big Bad, Tony's favourite character isn't a bad guy- oh wait, no he totally still is, in fact he's the Big Bad's right hand man, apparently, hah, and Thor looks like someone has kicked him in the nuts.

"I don't know what you're smiling about, Tony," Steve snorts, comfortable in the fact that his favourite characters are still firmly in the good guy category. "Gin is still a bad guy."

Tony shrugs, legs stretched out in front of him. "He doesn't hide it though; everyone thought he was evil and killed Aizen, but when it turned out he didn't kill him, he's still evil. He's true and honest in the fact he's a snake and acts like one, and everyone knows it. Aizen's just a bastard all 'round, and because of it fucked up his lieutenant’s brain and Hitsu-whatever's too. Way worse than Gin leaving behind his people - the only one that seems surprised is Matsumoto, his _childhood friend_ , which means there's probably a hell of a lot more to the plot than Gin just being a sidekick to the big bad. And I guess I see a bit of myself in him, because he's a social piranha with only two people that seem to even remotely care for him, which, frankly, sounds a lot like me."

Thor frowns at him, but doesn't say anything, probably because he realises Tony means 'me' as in 'the old me', the 'me' that only had Pepper and Rhodey and Happy. Only they'd be really shocked if Tony went supervillian. Actually, on retrospect, only Rhodey and Happy would probably be shocked. Pepper would just buckle down, deploy JARVIS as her weapon of mass destruction, and either join Tony or singlehandedly bring him down with a disapproving look and sound logic. She's terrifying like that.

When the take-out comes, Steve goes to get it, what with being the only one that won't immediately be recognised on sight out of the three of them. With food and drinks replenished, they watch on, and the show goes from light hearted ghosts to bad guys getting ridiculously stronger, to Aizen - the Big Bad (capital letters and all) - turning out to really _be_ the big bad, as in the final boss of everything. Thor falls in love with a character called Ikkaku - bald guy who's best friends with a flamboyant pretty boy - everybody sort of enjoys the shit out of Kenpachi - crazy ass captain with _bells_ in his hair who's powerful as fuck - and the main character, Ichigo, doesn't become whiny or annoying half way through.

Then one of the girls gets kidnapped to Bad Guy's Evil Lair, everything starts turning a bit philosophical between her and her prisoner, and Ichigo pretty much levels the fuck up and goes on a warpath - with friends - to save her.

And then, well... Uuh... People start dying.

"What the _fuck_ is up with these animes and killing of characters? Jesus, isn't this supposed to be for kids?" Tony scowls, watching as another of the so called bad guys go down. They're not really bad guys, not in the sense like Aizen _choosing_  to go bad, but bad in the sense they kinda ended up in Hell for spirits, became badasses to keep themselves alive, then got taken over by the scarily competent Aizen and his two captain-cronies, Gin (who Tony is steadily growing to like more and more) and Tousen (the blind black character with seriously fucked up perceptions of justice but pretty cool shades).

As if that wasn't bad enough, the plot suddenly picks up again, and Aizen moves to the last stage of his Grand Plan which ends in the motherload of all confrontations. Everyone's fighting everyone, the good guys are getting their asses handed to them on a platter- except, whoa, sudden power-ups happen everywhere and the tide starts turning with the bad guys dropping like flies one by one. And then- Suddenly-

Gin betrays Aizen. 

Aizen goes down. He doesn't get up. And holy shit, Gin totally turns out to have been vying to kill the guy ever since his childhood sweetheart (Matsumoto; who, consequently enough, was the only one that seemed surprised that Gin had 'turned bad') got hurt because of him. Holy shit, Gin kept the true breadth of his power secret, and in the end turned it on Aizen, who'd been on a power bend so high nobody would've been able to touch him.

Tony fist bumps the air, pulling on the bruising of his wounded side, but literally gives no fucks because yes! His favourite character's awesome! Thor's pretty much sitting by the edge of his seat, grinning himself, complimenting Tony on his tastes, and Steve's totally _gone_ on the fact Gin put up with centuries (centuries!) of Aizen for his childhood friend.

And then Gin _dies_.

Tony watches as nobody but Matsumoto mourns him, as the show immediately carries on, but dutifully gives a flashback showing little Gin and Matsumoto, and basically drives the angst home. He watches as Ichigo, the main character, and Aizen, the Biggest Big Bad to ever Bad, have the final showdown, as character development reaches an all new high, and Gin doesn't miraculously come back. Slowly, without even his awareness, he closes down, curls in on himself in the seat, and suddenly finds most of his attention being taken up by keeping his breathing slow and steady, even throughout each inhale and exhale, even as his mind works double time.

"Tony?" Steve's voice, sounding like it's underwater. Why is Steve underwater? "Tony!"

A large hand descends on his shoulder, warm and _alive_ , and Gin is dead dead _dead_ , the guy who wasn't evil but wasn't good and cared only about the one person who wasn't intimidated by his lack of morals. Gin who was Tony and Matsumoto who was Pepper/Rhodey/Happy. And Aizen was Stane. Jeez, the parallels were horribly accurate, except Tony hadn't known Stane was Aizen until the end, not until Aizen had tried to kill him, wait no, it'd been Stane that had tried to kill him, and Tony had tried to kill him back, almost failed, but finally succeeded. What would have happened if he'd failed, just like Gin? Thor's voice swam over him, under him, around him, tone worried but soothing, a background noise to the swarm of Tony's thoughts--- 

What would have happened if he'd failed?

Obie, no, Obadiah, no, _Stane_ \- would have put the blame of the selling of weapons to enemies on Tony. He'd have silenced Pepper, no doubt, because Stane knew Pepper was his, that he was Pepper's, and Stane would've done what Aizen was doing now, attacking everyone and everything without care. Rhodey would've probably died too, because of course he'd be suspicious at first Tony's death then Pepper's, and Happy... He'd get himself killed trying to get the information out to Rhodey. JARVIS would've gotten shut down, Dummy and the others left alone and locked up in his workshop with no company but themselves, wondering what had happened to Tony, wondering why JARVIS wasn't responding, _wondering_.

What would have happened if he'd _failed_?

The media would act like everybody had done towards Gin, because Tony Stark was nobodies favourite, and neither was Gin. No one would mourn him, not like they mourned Aizen when they'd thought he'd died. No, some would even be grateful that he was dead - no more Merchant of Death, no more playboy billionaire, no more head case with too much fire power in a suit.

"Tony," a voice says, strong and clear and repeating itself. "Tony, breathe."

Tony does, pulling in air through his lips, swallowing it down to his lungs, and exhaling it out through his nose. He does it again, and again, and again, and all the while the voice - _Steve's_ voice - anchors him, close and warm and confident. 

"That's right," the captain says, "Nice and easy, good. Everyone would mourn you, Tony, just as we, the watchers, are mourning Gin. You're not a bad guy, you could never be a bad guy, and nobody expects you to be one; you're good, you're a hero, you saved the world and keep on doing it always without fail. You're not Gin, Tony."

"But I could be," he hears himself say, and it's jarring, hearing his own voice. It breaks the haze his focus has been in, brings him back to the present. "Jesus, I could absolutely be him. Dead and alone with only one person sad to see me go."

"Tony," Steve says again, voice desperate. It makes Tony blink at him, blink again when he realises Steve is actually kneeling between Tony's spread legs, large, warm hands clasped high on Tony's thighs, thumbs digging into the inner muscles, far too close to a certain part of Tony's anatomy the good captain probably shouldn't go near. "Tony," Steve says again, trying to grab his attention. It works, and once he has it, Steve smiles sadly, blue eyes bright and serious, even as he says, "Look at the screen."

Tony does, and to his surprise sees Kira, the only other person that seemed truly affected by Gin's seeming betrayal, and then Matsumoto, still crying and raging at the death of her best friend. He looks back to Steve, questioning.

"That's a bit more than sadness, isn't it?" Steve answers. "Thousands of people would mourn you, Tony. Little kids would mourn you, the scientific community would mourn you, teenagers in love with your StarkPhone and StarkPad would mourn you. The few people that enjoy you cursing out senators would mourn you. _We_ would mourn you, but more than that, we would make damn sure you were avenged, and get the sunnuvabitch that was your Aizen."

"You... swore." Tony replies lamely, too shocked to come up with anything more intelligent. He only notices then that Thor's gone, seemingly disappeared into the ether, but before he can look around for the big guy, large hands gently take hold of his face and turn him back to look at Steve. Lamely, Tony says, "Hi."

Steve smiles. "Hi."

And then he leans up on his knees and kisses Tony. Just like that. One kiss coming right up. Here, let me kiss you and leave your brain grinding to a full out stop.

It doesn't last long, just the perfectly respectable amount of time Tony isn't surprised Steve seems to have down like a boss. The captain withdraws, still smiling softly but sadly. He gets up, and for one panicky moment, Tony thinks he's leaving - which, hell no, absolutely no way, so he twists his fingers in the material of Steve's soft shirt and latches on like a clingy octopus. Steve just huffs a laugh, hands running through Tony's dark hair, fingers massaging his scalp (which feels absolutely heavenly by the way), and sits down on Tony's right. One arm goes over Tony's shoulder, pulling him up against Steve's chest, and because he's completely and absolutely very much bewildered by the turn of events, Tony goes like a little impressionable child and snuggles up to the chest of human perfection.

A blonde head pops into his view soon after, blocking the TV, and it isn't Steve's.

"Friend Tony!" Thor booms happily, voice loud in the aftermath of Steve's quiet declarations. "You are no longer hysterical! Excellent."

The man/alien/god has a shit eating grin on his face, and the mischievous twinkle in his eyes say loudly enough that he's being a dick, so Tony dutifully says, "Fuck you, Hercules."

"Tony!" Steve says reproachfully, but Thor just laughs, ruffles Tony's hair like the asshole he secretly is and sits on Tony's left, effectively bracketing the engineer in between two blonde haired muscle freaks with pecs of wonder and abs of steel.

Frankly, it's not a bad place to be.

(Seriously, for reals, _this_ is where it starts.)

* * *

 

The rest of the team inevitably find out soon afterwards.

They've just finished off _Bleach_ , and while Gin truly does stay dead (you can never be sure with these type of things until the very last episode), Tony eventually gets over it and enjoys the other characters. The seating arrangement's changed as well, with Tony now in the middle of the sofa with Steve and Thor on either side. The god doesn't seem all too bothered by how very touchy Steve is, or the fact that Tony usually just goes with it and gets kicks out of every time Steve makes them cuddle, but you'd never tell with the way Thor subtly pokes fun at them in his 'I'm Absolutely Innocent' way.

JARVIS was, however, all too happy to show Tony the video of Thor giving Steve the shovel talk. That had _definitely_ been enlightening. 

Steve sure as hell had looked enlightened. (Hah.)

"What're we watching today, oh JARVIS, my JARVIS?" When JARVIS answers, all three of them look up. "Uh," Tony says slowly. "Repeat that again?"

" _Tengen_ ," JARVIS dutifully starts up again, but slower. " _Toppa Gurren Lagann._ Otherwise simply known as _Gurren Lagann_. It's not quite as well known as the other animes we've been watching, but it seems to be considered an anime legend. I have yet to see a review of it that was anything less than stellar."

"What the hell kind of a name is that?" Tony grumbles, even as his brain brings up the fact that _none_ of these animes have had 'normal' names. Except maybe _Naruto_.

Something vibrates at Tony's left hip, and it's a silent testimony to just how close Thor's sitting that it turns out to be the god's phone (StarkPhone, thank you very much). Thor brightens up on seeing the screen (Jane, then) and holds up a hand to ask for a few minutes before they start. Tony waves him off dismissively, and with it, Thor ambles off towards the kitchen, happily booming down the phone line to his lady.

"I really admire the relationship between Thor and Dr. Foster," Steve notes quietly, chin resting on Tony's head. "It must be hard for her, knowing Thor's an immortal and she isn't."

Tony snorts and cranes his neck upwards to stare at Steve incredulously. "Do you really think Thor's going to let her grow old and die? Hell no, he's probably already got a plan to, like, have us visit him in Asgard and conveniently have us leave with inconspicuous boxes of golden apples."

Steve looks a bit surprised at the words. "Really?" He says thoughtfully, eyes wide. "But isn't that illegal in Asgard? I wouldn't want him to get in trouble."

"He sneaked Agent like five when we found out he was alive," Tony frowns, eyebrows coming together in confusion. "How else do you think Agent fully healed from spinal injuries as bad as his?" At Steve's surprised look, Tony's frown turns equally shocked. "You're telling me you didn't know?"

"I don't think anybody knows, except you." Steve answers, still digesting the new information. "I know Clint and Natasha were prepared for Phil being permanently paralysed, and that Bruce thought it was a miracle Phil even survived, let alone fully healed, but I just figured that was modern medicine for you. How come you knew?"

Tony blinks, taking in the information, then frowns over at the kitchen where Thor's no doubt serenading Jane. "He had me fuck with SHIELD's security and get him inside. And then keep watch to make sure no one disturbed him. I figured everyone knew, that it was a, you know, team effort?"

"Sometimes," Steve laughs, "I forget that Thor's lived thousands of years. With that in mind, it's hard not to be surprised when he pulls one over all of us."

Tony nods, but he's still staring thoughtfully at the kitchen entrance. Something about Phil and Jane and Thor has him thinking, turning to look at Steve thoughtfully, taking in the way Steve looked comfortable where he sat, perfectly content.

Why the hell had Steve kissed him?

This wasn't the first time that the question had popped up, but it was the last time he'd push it away. Steve never pushed for more, hadn't kissed him since that first time, and the only time he did anything a bit... touchy was during these marathons. Sure, the Hulk had looked between them with a frown and pointedly picked Tony up and moved him far away from Steve the last time they'd assembled, but that was the Hulk - he just _knew things_. But nobody else has picked up on anything, because the only time there was anything to pick up was on marathon night.

"So..." Tony begins, trying to think of a way to start the conversation. It doesn't do him much good though, because as soon as Steve looks at him, open and with strikingly blue eyes, Tony's brain just halts to an embarrassing stop. "... Hi."

A smile breaks out on Steve's face, and the captain happily replies, "Hi."

Tony stares, Thor's voice a low murmur in the kitchen now. Eyebrows slowly rising at the continued silence, Steve goes from happy to confused to worried, all in the span of a few seconds. "Tony?"

"Why did you kiss me?" Tony blurts out in response, immediately wincing at his own stupidity. "Uh, I mean, it just seemed kinda outta nowhere, so I was wondering if whatever this thing between us is new or if somehow I just missed it."

Steve looks startled, shocked by the question, but quickly becomes incredulous. "I've been trying to get you to date me for the past four months!"

"What?" Tony frowns, staring at Steve. "No you weren't, if you were I'd have known."

"I came into the living room when you guys were watching _Ouran_ in the first place to see where you were," exclaims Steve, huffing in exasperation. "I tried talking to you after it too, but then you blew up at me, then dragged me for tacos, and got attacked by Doom. _Then_ I tried to get you into the idea of learning self defence so I could be the one to teach you, but you blew up at me _again_ \- which, I'll admit, I could have suggested it in a better way and at a better time - and that's only the main ones! I don't think you even remember the time you were wandering around at three in the morning and we had a conversation and you slept halfway through it and sleepwalked back to the workshop, or the time you--"

"--Okay, okay!" Tony rushes in, embarrassment making his voice extra high pitched. "I get it! Lots of clues, all of which I completely missed, jeez, I thought you were just being... you."

Steve turns an incredulous stare at him, even as his face breaks out in fond exasperation - a face that looks frighteningly similar to Pepper's usual looks. "For a genius, you can be pretty stupid."

Gasping in outrage, Tony pouts at Steve, pushing his bottom lip as far out as he can even as he widens his eyes. Steve bursts out laughing at the look, but gives in to Tony's diabolical plan.

He kisses him.

Making a happy little noise, Tony enthusiastically returns the favour, running his tongue over Steve's bottom lip, nibbling at it, mentally crowing in victory at the pleased groan Steve fails to hold back.

That's when Bruce walks in, screams like a little three year old girl, and promptly walks out.

Tony stares at the retreating figure of the usually quiet doctor while Steve breaks down into _snickers_ , like a school boy eagerly anticipating the success of his latest prank. It's adorable, is what it is, and Tony's attention soon focuses to other things, mind wandering away from the quick pop in and pop out of the sometimes rage monster. Things that are very much more grown-ass-adult-man and less school-boy in terms of... stuff. Adult things. NC17 rated things. Between him and Steve.

Good thoughts.

Before Tony can even try to put some of the more... racy thoughts to action, Thor comes bouncing in pleased as punch, and takes his seat beside Tony. "Shall we begin, my friends?"

Yes, they absolutely should. (And finish quickly so Tony can hatch another diabolical plan and get Steve in his bed. Preferably naked. And flushed red. And oh, sweet Jesus-)

* * *

 

"ROW ROW FIGHT THE FUCKING POWER!" Tony screams, flailing his arms in the air as a giant robot collides with another on screen. 

"WHO THE HELL DO YOU BELIEVE US TO BE?!" Thor screeches, right on cue as the main character says a close approximation of a similar thing, just a whole lot less Thor (aka Shakespeare) and a lot more Normal.

"Will both of you shut up?!" Steve cries for the numerous time. "I want to actually hear them!" Neither Tony nor Thor hear him though (truthfully they do but just ignore him), the two instead trading high fives as the good guy strikes a pose and a volcano explodes behind him.

Needless to say, _Tengen Toppa Gurren Lagann_ turns out to be a complete hit.

That is, at least, until episode seven.

Theeeen...

Right... Well.

"What the hell is going on here?"

Looking up, Steve rubs at his eyes and the moisture collecting there, giving a watery smile to the baffled looks of both Clint and Natasha. They're dressed in their SHIELD uniforms, look tired and weary, no doubt having just come back from their two week long mission. Bruce had accidentally challenged Rhodes who had a week off to a game of poker a few hours ago. Last Steve knew, he'd just Hulked out from the pressure and proceeded to wipe the floor with the wholly unprepared soldier.

Who knew the Hulk had a great poker face, anyway?

("CAN'T READ HUUULK'S," the Hulk had sang monotonously, "CAN'T READ HUUULK'S, NO HE CAN'T REEEAD HULK'S POOOOKER FAAAAACE."

For some reason, Tony had almost died laughing.) 

"Are they- are they _crying_?"

Oh right, Clint and Natasha. He needed to explain things. Like why Tony and Thor were currently hugging each other and sobbing their hearts out.

"THIS IS MORE DISHEARTENING THAN THE TRUTH OF ITACHI'S DECEPTION!!" Thor booms right then, which only makes Clint twitch in that way he does when he's questioning the threat levels of the people around him.

"GIIIIIN," wails Tony in response. "KAMINAAAAAAAA!" 

Sniffing, Steve surreptitiously wipes his eyes and waves at the two in greeting. "We're watching an anime called _Gurren Lagann_ ; it's pretty great so far."

Clint's face says he can't wrap his mind around Steve's definition of great, but considering all three of them are crying and so are most of the characters on the actual show itself, Steve can't exactly fault him.

Natasha, on the other hand, nods her head, snakes an arm through Clint's own and drags him towards the elevator. Whispering, she says, "Phil would have warned us if anything had happened to them. We'll call him just to make sure."

Obviously they've forgotten about Steve's serum enhanced hearing. 

Though it _is_ a bit funny hearing Clint hiss back, "Thor and Stark, _Stark for Christ’s sake_ , are _crying_ , Nat. Screw Phil, we need to call in Fury."

And that's how the team inevitably finds out.

After reducing Rhodes to a financially broke soldier, the Hulk had shrunk back to Bruce, who in a haze of embarrassment had run from the kitchen trying to keep his pants up and tripped over his own feet, landing right in the middle of Tony and Thor's grief-filled hug fest.

Steve's eyebrows rose as he watched the poor doctor disappear under the combined force of Tony and Thor's... exuberance. Poor guy didn't even stand a chance.

A screen pops up next to Steve's arm rest, _AGENT AGENT_ sprawling across the screen in a call. Before Steve's eyes, the call connects, goes on for a few seconds, then disconnects, and a message pops up soon after saying;

 

> _No need to worry, Captain. I have assured Agent Coulson that all is well. - JARVIS_

Steve smiles, settling back in his seat, breath gusting out of him when Tony flops down on top of him with a strangled noise. 

"Steeeeve," the genius whines. "Steve. Steeeeve. Steve? Steve. Steve!"

"What, Tony?" Steve asks, humouring the man even as Thor quickly (and passionately) fills a bewildered Bruce in on every anime he's watched so far.

"Why do all my favourite characters _die_?"

Humour disappearing as soon as it'd come, Steve smiles sadly at Tony, hearing the small strain of genuine hurt and confusion in the dark haired man's voice. Cuddling closer to him, Steve nuzzles into Tony's hair, inhaling the scent of high grade coffee beans grounded and sprinkled with the coppery tang of metal. "I can't say for sure," he answers truthfully, "But back when I was an artist and worked for a comic crew, it was the characters that everybody really liked that were at the most danger of being killed off. Just to incite some passion in the fans and further along the plot line."

Tony pulls a face, looking belligerent at the answer. "That's stupid," he declares stiffly, even as his body relaxes further into Steve at the logical answer that in no way claims Tony Stark Does Not Deserve Nice Things. "I should sue these guys for emotional trauma. I'd win too; nobody says no to Tony Stark."

"Of course you would, Tony," Steve dutifully nods, turning his attention to the screen along with Tony. He's not even lying - Pepper had once introduced him to Stark Industries' small army of black-suited lawyers, and casually mentioned that Tony had triple the size. For _himself_. And now for the Avengers too, apparently.

Rhodes ("No seriously, call me James, or at least Rhodey. Since you're Tony's friends I might even let you call me buttercup.") stomps into the kitchen then, glaring mutinously at a dizzy looking Bruce, then bounces into Thor's open seat.

Thor stops everything he's doing, drops Bruce like a sack of potatoes (making the poor scientist yelp in surprise and go a few shades green) and turns on Rhodey with a dark, _dark_ , expression. "That is my seat, friend."

Rhodey blinks up at Thor, carefully eases the fuck out of the seat, and sits on the couch furthest away from them all.

Steve hides his amusement in Tony's hair, because if there's one thing he's learnt from these anime marathons, is that Thor is adorably protective of his seats, even more when they're next to someone he enjoys sitting next too. Like Tony. (Not so much the Hulk, because the Hulk always, _always_ , insults Thor's hair and his clothes and his "PUNY HAMMER. LOKITTY BETTER THAN YOU. STRONGER. FASTER. CLEVERER."

"Smarter, you mean," Tony would correct, brain not yet fully online without his coffee and his eyes glazed over from lack of sleep.

"YES." The Hulk would agree, nodding his head sombrely. "THAT.")

Not a moment later, Clint drops in from one of the vents, sprawling himself over an indignant Rhodes' lap, while Natasha simply sashayes in from the direction of the elevator, equally seating herself over Rhodes' lap, resulting in one very confused colonel and a greatly amused Tony.

And as they all get invested in the show and scream and yell and throw popcorns, Tony cranes his head upwards and kisses Steve's soft smile. Then totally ruins the mood by groping Steve's groin with a dirty, _dirty_ , leer.

(Then the assemble alarm blares, bringing about news that Loki's causing trouble downtown with some Fae's, and the team suits up and goes out to fight him. If there's a lot more ridiculously named moves and the occasional, "WHY WON'T YOU GIVE UP PUUUUUUNCH!" followed by, "HULK'S GIGA DRILL BREAKER!" nobody will know but themselves.

And a shit ton of SHIELD officials listening in on the comms who already think the Avengers are batshit crazy.)

So basically, it all starts with Thor. But this? This is only just the beginning. The beginning of something new; of family, of team, and a cliché love story interrupted with daily amounts of Japanese animation.

  
**OWARI**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Owari means 'finished', or, I think more technically, 'the end', which this is. There IS an extra chapter though, but frankly that's a porny epilogue, so it's not quite part of all this. Just thought I'd clear that up.
> 
> (I regret nothing with the Hulk. NOTHING.)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is! Porny epilogue! Many thanks to remii and jinx for allowing me to lose my shit about writing penetrative sex between two guys as opposed to four. IDEK guys, but this was nerve wracking. Constructive criticism welcomed! (Enjoy!)

Tony shoves Steve into the dark room, grinning wickedly as JARVIS automatically brightens the room just a little and gives it a warm hue. Steve walks backwards, fingers working at the buttons of his shirt, making Tony lick his lips appreciatively at the impromptu strip tease.

Jesus, he's hard. Hard enough that he can't even be patient enough to enjoy the way the shirt hangs open on Steve, framing the toned chest in an image plucked straight from a sexy GQ photo spread. Steve moves to shrug off the shirt, but Tony quickly moves in and puts his own hands on the man, finally getting his fingers on the smooth expanse of skin that's all freaking _his_.

"Shit, Steve..." He murmurs, eyes drinking in Steve's pectorals, the light dusking of his nipples, the hard, toned skin of his abdomen and the pale hair disappearing down his waistband. "Please tell me I can touch. Please."

A huff of laughter, and a quick glance up shows Steve's eyes crinkled at the corner, amusement and something else in the curve of his smile. "'Course you can, Tony. Have at it."

"You're going to regret that," Tony warns, even as he gently pushes Steve the last step to the bed, hands applying light pressure on his shoulders until Steve takes the hint and sits. "Absolutely regret it. I'm going to _blow your mind_."

Steve _laughs_ , obviously not realising the not-so-subtle meaning of his words, but he makes a choked noise nonetheless when Tony falls to his knees. Tony wickedly grins, enjoying the wide eyed look Steve is giving him, and puts his hands on the man's pants, fingers curling in until they're under the waistband, teasingly stroking the warm skin he finds there. Steve makes a strangled noise, getting more and more wide-eyed, lips parting and closing and parting and closing and oh, look, he just licked his lips. Tony feels slightly dizzy from seeing it – especially from his angle where his view is almost completely Steve's chiselled chest and his _face_ , but he wants _noises_ , so he uses herculean effort to look away and instead focuses on the prize at hand.

Hah. _Prize_.

“Please tell me someone taught you sex.” Tony mutters, dexterous fingers making quick work of Steve's belt buckle, sliding it out with a lick of his own dry lips. “Please tell me I don't have to stop to lecture you about the many, _many_ , evolutions of sex throughout the ages.”

Another strangled noise is his reply, but the fact that Steve isn't actively saying no tells Tony that everything's totally fine, no reason to stop, Stark, go right ahead, to infinity and _beyond_. Fuck yeah. So Tony does, unzipping Steve and grabbing both sides and tugging, waiting for Steve's brain to catch up so the soldier can lift and Tony can slide the pants right off him and to his knees. Feeling a bit cruel (they could've been doing this for _months_ already, fuck his life,) Tony leaves them there, so if Steve even _thinks_ about getting up and leaving he'll trip up and fall to his ass, giving Tony plenty of time to manipulate him back to bed.

Morally grey ethics? Pfft, Tony's the king of that too. (So basically his empire consists of Denial, Repression, Technology, Midgard/Earth, and Fifty Shades of Tony Stark. That should be his biography. It would most definitely sell better then that piece of crap too. The BDSM community would _rejoice_ for fuck's sake.)

It comes to no surprise when Steve's underwear turn out to be white briefs, snug and bland, but rather than being unimpressed by it, Tony finds himself utterly _salivating_. He can _see Steve's dick_ , holy shit, _it's right there_!!! He's so close to his prize, so close that if it were snatched out of his hands at this moment, Tony would go supervillain and the world would rue the day they ever got in the way of Tony Stark and Steve Roger's dick. Quickly, as to not tempt fate, Tony hooks his hands into the waistband and pulls, smoothly sliding it down Steve's eternally long legs (fuck _everything_ , this is glorious) and leaves them rumpled up against the pants. Then he slides his hands up to the man's inner thighs, revelling in the inhaled gasp Steve tries to strangle back, and parts them aside to give him a better view.

And wow, okay, maybe he should take a look at that super serum thing; see if he can use his genius to replicate it. If every dude and woman had amazing bodies, it would probably be a huge step to world peace. And isn't that the shtick he's pulling nowadays? Privatising world peace? How does one even _privatise world peace_? His PR guys are amazing for being able to spin that as completely sound and logic.

“You going to just stare?” Steve asks, staring down at him with a pleasant smile. “I thought you were going to make me regret it.”

 _Oh_. Oh Steve's _fucking with him_.

“By the time I'm through with you,” Tony warns, shooting a shark smile he keeps in stock for lawyers, “You won't even know what there _is_ to regret.”

Then he pushes Steve's thighs wider apart, wiggles his way in and makes himself at home, and gets to it.

Steve's pretty big – not completely monster big – but just on the bigger size of the average male, which is a good thing because Tony's seen Thor ( _everyone's_ seen Thor, at one point or other) and Clint had had to talk him down from sending a huge donation to Jane for putting up with that. Maybe she liked it – Tony wasn't shaming nobody, here – but then again she did have a vagina. Vagina's were significantly better equipped to deal with biological anomalies like that than rectums. Tony should know – he was a genius. But anyway, Steve was at that good range; that perfect size that made you _feel_ it but didn't overwhelm you.

Licking his lips, Tony bends down and suckles at the head, playing with it for a moment to familiars himself with what Steve may or may not like. It's been a while since he'd last entertained a guy, but you never really forget the basics. Letting his arms encircle Steve's waist, Tony bends down further and traces patterns down the shaft, licking and tasting as he goes, stopping to suck at a spot before continuing on downwards. By the time he reaches the base, Steve's breathing has become laboured, a thing of beauty to Tony's ears, but even still Tony will not rest until he makes _noises_ fall out of that perfectly polite mouth.

Flattening his tongue on the hot skin, Tony drags it upwards to the tip again, and swirls it round the head, grinning to himself when Steve gives a little, tiny, groan. He does it again, getting the same reaction, but this time two strong hands settle on his head, fingers weaving into his hair with the faintest hint of pressure. The image that springs up of Steve tightening his hold and using it to just fuck up into Tony's mouth makes _Tony_ groan, allowing the head of Steve's dick to slip in further into his mouth to muffle his own noise. Impulsively, he decides to forgo the whole teasing thing and go straight to the main event. Bit by bit, he lets the cock fill his mouth, hollowing out his cheeks for added effect and feeling the strength of the thigh muscles under his palms, feeling the strength of Steve holding back the urge to just _thrust_. _God_ , it's heady, and Tony needs that power in him like yesterday, so he suddenly deep throats Steve in, humming and sucking as he goes, and Steve's grip on his hair _tightens_ as he shouts in surprise.

“Fuck, Tony...!” Steve groans, undulating up into Tony's mouth without any self awareness. “Shit!” 

Smothering the sudden giggles that want to pop up, Tony hums again in response – Steve's moan giving him chills – and slowly bobs up and down, sometimes stopping with only the very tip of the head still in the tight hot cavern of his mouth before going back in. He let's go completely for air, breathing in through his open mouth and instead biting at the skin of the inner thigh closest to him, feeling a possessive thrill run through him when Steve reacts _wonderfully_ to it and the bite mark shines with saliva.

Steve doesn't let him play for long though, calling his name over and over again until finally just hoisting Tony up with his own hands, casually throwing him to the bed like that's something that people can usually do to their partners. That whole manhandling kink thing he thought he might have? Yeah, he _definitely_ has it, in truckloads, even – in fact, his own dick gives a twitch inside his uncomfortably tight boxers as the bed stops moving around him. Steve just turns on him and climbs towards him, hair messed up from god knows what and his cheeks flushed red. He's practically _glowing_ in the warm, dim, lighting of the room, a veritable Adonis settling himself over Tony, and it's slightly horrifying how Tony loses time just staring at the way a lock of blonde hair hangs right in front of Steve's left blue eye.

Horrifying because Tony shouldn't be this sentimental about _hair_ , or eyes. But that body? Jeez, if he didn't worship it pronto he'd be committing blasphemy.

He moves to do just that, lurching upwards to try and switch their position, get himself on top with Steve spread out on his amazing sheets – but he doesn't really get far. Dropping back to bed, Tony blinks slowly and wonders why his hands won't move – a quick glance at them shows the answer. Steve's got a pretty tight grip on him. And unfortunately not on his dick.

Cocking an eyebrow, Tony looks back at Steve and eyes him for a moment, then frankly shrugs and magnanimously says, “Sure, okay, we'll try it your way.” Then, still with an eyebrow cocked, he adds, “You... _do_ know how this works, right?”

It's a legitimate concern, thank you very much, and Tony should be offered a reward for having enough blood circulating his brain to still be able to even _think_. Steve doesn't seem to think that though – not if the way he bursts out laughing and hides his amusement in Tony's chest, right into the glowing arc reactor, is any clue. Bewildered, Tony stares down at the blonde head, dimly noticing the way Steve's broad shoulders shake with his laughter, starts to feel the itch in his own fingers to _touch_ , holy shit he wants to touch, but instead takes the decade old route of demanding, “What? What's so funny?”

Laughter quickly slowing down into small chuckles, Steve pillows his head on Tony's chest, cheek pressed up against the blue glow of the _piece of metal_ in his _chest_. (But Tony's not panicking – he knows he normally would, he knows he _should_ , because it doesn't matter how long you've known someone they can always betray you – but he's _not_.) Mirth filled blue eyes look up at him, lips thinned out into a soft, sincere, smile.

“Don't worry, Tony,” Steve says soothingly, almost _reassuringly_. (Why the _hell_ is Steve reassuring _Tony_? What exactly is even happening here, shouldn't they be fucking the brains out of each other by now? How long does it even take to insert Tab A into Slot B?) (Slot B because Slot A would be a vagina and that is something Tony does not have and will never have unless Loki decides Tony needs to be a woman again for the umpteenth time. He's pretty sure the asshole just really likes watching Tony struggle to adjust to the different centre of gravity. Or maybe he just likes perving on Tony as a woman; because Tony makes a pretty fucking amazing woman, surprisingly. Clint definitely seemed surprised.)

Hands squeeze his wrists, bringing Tony back out of his memory and Clint's horrified face when he realises the chick he's just flirted with is _Tony_ , and to the present where Steve still has that smile on his face. Obviously not long has passed, because Steve just carries on and says, “I'll take care of you.”

Tony's brain goes dead. “What?”

Steve blinks, looks at him with a bit of confusion, and says, “You're worried right? That I don't know what to do? You don't have to be, I'll take care of everything, so you can relax.”

“Take...” Ctrl Alt Del, Ctrl Alt Del, _Ctrl Alt Del_ , why isn't it working!? “Care of me...? Steve-” Oh good, a reboot! “Steve what are you talking about, why are you taking care of me, what's there to take care of, oh my god what did they _teach you_ in that dungeon they call a headquarter, those goddamn SHIELD assholes, jesus fucking-"

“-Don't blaspheme,” Steve interrupts, putting a stop to the flow of words steadily getting higher in pitch. “Tony, have you ever... _received_?”

The way he says it – says the last word, exactly – is so earnest, so _Steve_ , that Tony gapes at him like an unattractive fish for a moment, mouth opening and closing all on it's own before Tony grabs a hold of himself. “Um,” he says, flustered beyond belief, “Yes.”

Steve actually looks _surprised_. “Yes?” He says, staring down at Tony, still straddling him and holding Tony's wrists on either side. “Really?”

“Well of course,” Tony responds blithely on autopilot, brain slowly beginning to unravel itself from the sudden blue screen of death. “After a few times being the pitcher, I wanted to try catching, so I got Rhodey to agree as long as I got him shit-faced drunk and we went to a gay bar. I think I was seventeen, maybe? I prefer doing it rather than receiving it, Rhodey prefers we never speak of that night again since he somehow got into a drag competition for the ten minutes I was gone _and won_ , and the next morning we went to our first day of class and the teacher turned out to be the guy that fucked me. So. Yeah. Awkward all round. But very enlightening.”

And then, catching up to the topic at hand and what they're actually talking about, Tony blurts out, “Wait, have _you_ received? Before?”

Steve goes bright red, letting go of Tony's wrists as he shakes his head in surprise. “What? No! I was in the 40's! The worst we could do was a couple of handjobs to each other, are you kidding me? Never mind what sort of mind space everyone was in back then, but we were also in the middle of a war. Nobody had the time for anything but a quickie.”

“So...” Tony really tries hard to figure out what Steve's saying, but his brain's too busy imagining Steve in his uniform, in a trench on the enemies side, pants just down enough to free his hard on so he can masturbate. Tony's brain is a wonderful, _magnificent_ , place. “You've had guy handjobs. Have you even had chick handjobs?”

“I... don't really think they're that different?” Steve asks instead, but he doesn't look like he's deflecting, he just looks genuinely confused. “It's the same either way, isn't it? A hand, a cock, and done.”

Tony stares at him, probably looking wide eyed and half panicked. “No- What?- Oh my god, no. Women have smaller hands, and they're usually more softer because society forces them to feel that they need to use hand creams and everything – and they generally really don't give a shit about your cock and just want to get to the good part. Men have larger hands, with callouses and stuff, and they know what feels good because hey, they have a cock too, so it's like a bigger circumference of heat _and_ experience. Are you being serious right now?”

“Does... that mean you want to... be on top?” Asks Steve, still looking adorably confused.

Thinking about it – actually putting some processing power behind the enquiry – Tony ultimately shakes his head. “No, you know what? I'm totally cool right here. Plus who knows, with your research you might actually know how to make it good. It'll be like a first for both of us. Sort of.”

Steve stares at him for a while, hair a complete lost cause and just making Tony want to mess it up a bit further, but ultimately he bends down and gives Tony the best kiss yet. It's deep and dirty, Steve practically _dominating_ , and Tony just groans and gives in, fighting every now and then just to keep Steve on his toes. Seriously, it's mind blowing, leaves Tony gasping when Steve finally breaks free, Tony's lips feeling abused and swollen, and Steve doesn't help by nipping at them and smugly grinning down at him.

“You can make me regret taunting you next time,” Steve says cheekily, teeth scraping over the jut of Tony's jaw. “Can blow my mind out of the water when we find ourselves here again, which we will, over and over and over again.” He kisses Tony's neck next, hands moving from where they'd just been resting on Tony's forearm in a downwards slide, stroking along the engineer's ribs, all the way down until they rest on Tony's hips. His lips follow the same route, taking a moment to suck at a particular spot, lave at it until Tony's squirming and huffing, then move downwards to bite at a nipple.

Tony gasps, arching his back at the ripple of sensation the move brings, but he doesn't get far – _can't_ get far, not with Steve's larger body on top of his, holding him down and keeping him there, doing to him everything he wants exactly _how_ he wants. “Steve-” Tony starts, but then cuts himself off with a groan as Steve does it again, bites down and worries at it with a patience and single-mindedness that's usually only seen on the battleground. The super soldier's wide palms drift down some more, all the way to Tony's hips and further down until they slip underneath Tony's thighs, hitching them up and over his own shoulders. Tony blinks his eyes open, wondering when he'd closed them, and stares down his own body at the picture Steve makes, ruffled and flushed, with Tony's darker skin tone contrasting against Steve's lighter shade.

Cursing, Tony throws his head back, staring up at the ceiling, groaning when he hears the sound of a lid being snapped open. He knows what's coming, thinks of Rhodey and that night of bar hopping, then pointedly does _not_ think of Rhodey as a finger gently circles his entrance, spreading the slick around. He can't help but tense slightly, but he gets himself under control quick enough that Steve only glances at him before continuing, circling his index finger once, then twice, then _three times and,_ “Oh my _god_ , Rogers, get _on with it._ ”

Steve laughs, the bastard, but he _does_ stop with his ministrations and actually push through, pressing his finger in and slowly working it to it's destination. Tony stays still, forces his body to _breathe_ , to do the many, _many_ things he knows he should do for this, and sends a heartfelt prayer when no pain crackles across his nerves. Slowly, with an intense expression on his face, Steve adds another finger, equally wet as the first, and then a third.

Tony's a wreck by now, thighs trembling where they lie over Steve's shoulder, throat constantly bared as he stares sightlessly at the ceiling. Steve's taken to mouthing at the closest skin, lips and tongue leaving a wet trail that goes cold as soon as he moves on across the plain of Tony's abdomen, always, _always_ , missing the place that could use the most attention by miles.

“Shit,” Tony breathes, fingers clutching the sheets at his side. “ _Fuck,_ you're good at this.”

Groaning quietly, Steve bites at Tony's left inner thigh, worrying the flesh between his teeth as Tony bucks with a strangled shout. He finally removes his fingers, making Tony feel _bereft,_ but the sound of a lid popping open stops Tony from complaining. At least verbally. If he rolls his eyes at how long it takes for Steve to lube himself up, then only JARVIS is his witness.

Which is slightly creepy, if you're not a guy named Tony Stark.

Right. Note to self: don't remind Steve of JARVIS.

Finally, after what seemed like a short eternity, Steve's face pops into view of Tony's ceiling, blonde eyes furrowed in concern. “You sure you're okay with this?” He asks, sounding for all the world like he will stop right then and there if Tony says no.

“Fuck yes.” Tony immediately replies with, a bit horrified at the notion of Steve _stopping_ and leaving them both to die of blue balls. “Now hurry _uuuup_. Before another seventy years passes.”

Steve flinches, which immediately has Tony reviewing what he said and cursing at himself, but to his surprise, Steve doesn't automatically shut down and leave like usual. Instead, he stares down at Tony thoughtfully, and suddenly looks like he's seeing something for the first time. “You don't say things like that to insult me.”

“What? No! No, no, jeez, no. Is that why you always close down like Fort Knox and leave? You think I was making fun of you?” Granted, if Tony ever actually sat down and brought up footage of every interaction between him and Steve, ninety percent of it would probably include Tony shoving his foot in his mouth. Without even knowing it. Fuck his life, seriously. (And fuck his mouth, Steve, _yes_.)

Nodding, Steve pats at the arc reactor like it's second nature, and the reactor is a cat that demands to be petted. Tony incredulously stares down at the broad palm as it strokes over the swirling blue of his greatest and worst creation ever, then stares up at Steve. Usually, people run screaming in the opposite direction at the sight of it, let alone _stroke it_. He's about to say something, can feel the words preparing to launch off his tongue, can feel himself opening his mouth and probably about to embarrass himself again, when suddenly-

Suddenly-

“Tony,” Steve chokes out, voice strained. “ _Relax_.”

“ _Shit_ ,” Tony huffs, the word punched out of him as Steve presses in, _pushes_ in, sinking deeper and deeper with every inch. He curses again, twists his hands into the material of the sheets beside him, forces himself to relax and _take it_. Steve's prepared him well enough, so much even that it only twinges slightly, but it's the feeling, the solid _pressure_ that's making breathing very _very_ difficult. It seems like forever before Steve finally stops, fully encased, and just holds still above Tony. His hands are on either side of the engineer's head, forearms flexing as blue eyes watch Tony's every movement with intensity.

Tony lets him, instead using his time in a productive manner to grow accustomed to the new sensations he's feeling. It's not completely unprecedented for, what with his experimenting in his youth (his _youth_ , already Steve's _grandpa ways_ are affecting him – _pah_!), but it's already off to a significantly better start. By now, teenage Tony had been loudly and vehemently making it known that he was not enjoying this, thank you very much, and if you do not get off me kind sir, I shall have my lawyers, the _family lawyers_ , my _Stark family lawyers_ , throw your ass into jail for questionable reasons. (Yeah, okay, he was pretty bad back then. Rhodey referred to it as the 'dark ages', the butthole.)

He pats at the nearest piece of Steve he can – which is his right pectorals, which, _nice_ – and experimentally clenches down on the male genitalia in his derrière. “All good, cowboy. So _ride me_.”

Steve makes a noise reminiscent of dying whales (Tony would like to inform the public that he has not been in the company of dying whales, and that this is simply a slightly convoluted metaphor to explain the current situation at hand), squeezing his eyes shut and fisting the sheets on either side of Tony's head. After an inordinate amount of time spent trying to get a hold of himself (and ignoring Tony smugly smirking up at him), Steve opens his eyes again, flares his nostrils, and slowly pulls out (which quickly wipes the smugness of Tony's face and replaces it with a face like a baby tasting soda for the first time.) Smirking himself for a moment, Steve pulls all the way out, until he's barely connected to Tony anymore, then slowly pushes back in, careful to keep sight of Tony's face in case it goes from incapable-of-understanding-feelings to pain-pain- _pain_.

It doesn't.

Slowly, Tony joins in, pushing back when Steve pushes forward, a rhythm settling in between them that feels natural and makes the scant space between their body hot with their breaths. Tony gives a guttural groan from the very back of his throat, throwing his head back when a slight angle change suddenly has something like fire alighting from the bottom of his spine. He accidentally squeezes down, which makes Steve gasp and buck, and suddenly the rhythm stutters, halts, and starts up again, much faster, much harder, much _everything_.

Steve's _thrusting into him_ now, there's no more _pushing_ , no more give or take of both of them working together, no more _Tony_ , because Steve's thrusts are strong, hard, and _perfect_ , and Tony's on his back and constantly making noises he can't even dream of controlling, just taking everything Steve's willing to give him.

“Shit,” he says again inelegantly, grunting as a particularly hard thrust threatens to move him up the bed. “ _Fuck,_ Steve, _harder_.”

Complying, Steve shifts around into a more comfortable position, large, hot palms sliding over Tony's body, running across his nipples almost accidentally, and tightening like vice bands on Tony's hips. Tony _moans_ at the pressure, breath hitching as another thrust threatens to leave him breathless, as the one after that _does_ , and grabs a hold of Steve's forearms, using them as anchors to keep him from flying off into a million little pieces.

Steve uses his hold on Tony's hips to just hold him up, super strength providing him with the means to do so, and Tony yelps when he feels his hips completely lift off of the mattress. Instinctively, he wraps his legs around Steve's hips, tightens his grip on Steve's strong forearms, and just holds on for dear life as Steve ducks down and begins sucking marks into the tan column of Tony's neck.

Tony's smart though, and more than that he's prideful, and no way in hell is he going to go down without a fight. He squeezes down again, laughs breathlessly when Steve _swears_ , and doesn't regret a single bit of it when the pace picks up again, Steve's hold on him the only thing keeping him in place.

It's not long before the pleasure starts to spike erratically, not long at all before Tony's stuttering out a warning.

“God, _Tony_ ,” Steve gasps, his hips losing their rhythm. “I- I'm-”

Tony forces himself to let go of one of Steve's forearms, uses it instead to weave it through the golden strands of Steve's sweat soaked hair. “Come here, Cap,” he mutters, too breathless to speak any louder. Steve goes into him willingly, kissing him open mouthed, tongues tangling together just as Tony seizes up on one particularly hard thrust and comes. Steve groans into the kiss, fingers twitching on Tony's hips, and soon after he tumbles down the cliff himself, the warmth of him making Tony wrap his arms around Steve's broad shoulders and just squeeze his eyes shut.

They stay like that for a moment, both panting, just trying to calm their hearts and breathing. Steve moves off to the side, and Tony lets go of him to let him, but soon finds himself being dragged along until he's sprawled across Steve's chest with his face nuzzling into Steve's neck. It's incredible, feeling himself rise and fall with the super soldier's every inhale and exhale, even more incredible that he's just experienced gay sex and it was fucking _mind blowing_.

Hah. Take that Rhodey.

He's not quite sure _why_ he feels vindictive satisfaction thrumming through him at the memory of his best friend, isn't sure why Rhodey is to blame exactly, but he doesn't really care. Tony takes advantage of being on top of Steve and snuggles into him, letting loose a happy, “Hnnnghhh,” when Steve asks if he's okay. Steve laughs a little, his chest rumbling beneath Tony's, and it feels fucking fantastic to feel that, so Tony decides this is his favourite position for post-coital snuggling, because that's apparently a thing they do now.

Then he gets a thought.

“Steve, remind me to thank Thor.”

Steve goes still beneath him, then very slowly says, “... For what, exactly?”

Tony pats the paranoid soldier (and possessive, maybe? Oooh, Tony likes that,) on a bulging biceps. “Calm down, darlin', it's for forcing me to watch anime and then forcing you to watch it with us. We could've been fucking _ages ago_ , shit.”

The laugh comes again, along with Steve relaxing beneath him. “Isn't Thor the god of fertility, too?”

This time, it's Tony's turn to go still. “... On second thought, let's not tell him anything. Jesus fuck, he already knows we're together. Steve, we should've used a condom!”

“Tony, what are you talking about?”

But Tony was already launching himself out of bed, struggling into the first pants he'd found. “Steve! Fertility! Together! A god willing to _bless us_! A _fertility god willing to bless us_!”

Steve stares after him as he goes running out of the bedroom, all the while ranting about something to do with babies, then drops back onto the messed up bed with a sigh. And slowly, happily, he smiles. “Wish you were here, Bucky.”

A beat later, and JARVIS interrupts the calm silence of the room. “Captain, the Director is calling for both you and Agent Romanov to come to the hellicarrier. There is a mission for you.”

“Got it, JARVIS, thanks. Any idea what it's about?”

“I believe it may have something to do with the Winter Soldier.”

Steve frowns, not finding the name familiar, but shrugs and gets out of bed. “Alright then. Tell 'Tasha I'll meet her outside.”

“Very good, Captain. I'll do just that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Serious questions I've asked myself during this chapter:**
> 
>   * Is handjob spelled hand job or handjob.
>   * Do people talk in the middle of sex? Or is it like the No Talking While Eating Dinner rule? Is it rude to hold conversations while fucking each other's brains out?
>   * What is sex.
>   * What is butt sex.
>   * How does attraction work.
>   * steve ur hair.
>   * Jarvis are you secretly watching? I bet you are, you voyeuristic little shit.
>   * What is the hulk doing right now.
> 


**Author's Note:**

> You have the right to remain silent and roll on over to my tumblr, [sheriffbadass](http://sheriffbadass.tumblr.com). You have the right to send asks, and if you're too shy for it, then you shall be appointed the veil of anon to allow you to do so.


End file.
